


i don't wanna come down from your love

by WhoTheBuckIsStucky



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, NO homophobia this is a gays only event and it's fun and safe in that way, Oh um, Smut, Um... what else, alcohol USE in a very college-y sense, anxious sweetheart taeyong, emotionally incompetent ten, i dunno dude i just like taeten and i had to stop imposing it on my superm oneshot readers, idiot plot? it's an idiot plot., im an ot21 stan i swear but i couldn't fit the dreamies, just for fun lmao, not anything like... no alcohol abuse but, side dowoo, they're all first years bc fuck it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoTheBuckIsStucky/pseuds/WhoTheBuckIsStucky
Summary: ((she's back with her least creative title yet!))Ten is an incurable playboy set on having all kinds of no-strings-attached fun as he enters college. Taeyong forces him to reconsider.I'll mark which chapters have smut if you're just here for that & that's it ....... you're wild but you're valid:- chapter 3- chapter 8- chapter 11
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 95
Kudos: 159





	1. one (ten)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! the thesis of this work is love is the most important thing on the planet :)

Ten groaned, slapping at his phone half-heartedly until the alarm stopped. For a second, he really considered just rolling over and going back to sleep. If his student mentor yelled at him, so what? The important stuff wasn't until the afternoon, anyway. But then, his stomach growled, and he sighed, pushing himself up into a seated position.

"You sound hungry," Kunhang, his roommate, piped up from his bed. 

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Ten asked cautiously as he slipped off his bed and onto the floor. They'd been randomly assigned, so Ten didn't know him very well yet. He seemed easygoing, but Ten didn't want to push it.

"Yeah, but I need to be up anyway, really. Five less minutes won't kill me." Kunhang yawned, and stretched. "And I'm hungry, too."

Ten nodded, and they got ready together in peaceful silence. It was only day three of orientation, but already Ten was sick of the inane activities that the college had strung together for them. Some of it was helpful, sure, but the group bonding stuff was stupid. They claimed that you'd make lasting friends from your little orientation group, but Ten was hard-pressed to believe it.

He ate his breakfast quietly while his group chattered around him, only offering a friendly hello to Kun, who he'd gone to high school with. As their student mentor coaxed them up so they could begin their day, Ten caught sight of a very familiar-looking, and very pretty boy across the dining hall. He couldn't place him, but he knew that he knew him. The boy had wide, pretty eyes and soft hair that swept low over his forehead. His frame was slight and delicate, and as Ten watched, his face broke out into a big, happy smile as someone greeted him, little silver earrings shaking slightly where they hung when he laughed.

"Coming, Ten?" Kun's voice shook him from his careful observations, and Ten quickly snapped his head over, tearing his eyes from the intriguing boy. 

"Yeah," Ten said, falling into step beside his friend. Still, as they exited the dining hall, he couldn't help but sneak one last peek. The boy was stretching, probably to shake off the last bit of stiffness from sleep, and his neck was on full display. Ten's mouth went dry, but he didn't regret looking.

Maybe orientation wouldn't be so boring after all.

\--  ♥♡♥ \--

Though he didn't like to admit it, maybe the whole thing about making friends was more accurate than Ten had initially thought. By the end of the day, he found himself chatting happily with a couple of the guys in his orientation group, and though they had been released to eat dinner on their own time, they all decided to sit together.

"This is one of my roommates, Mark," Johnny announced as another boy approached their table. Ten, Kun, and Jungwoo said hello, quickly introducing themselves.

"One of?" Kun asked. "Are you in a triple, too?"

"Yeah." Johnny made a little face. "Somehow. Mark and I already knew each other--we've basically grown up together, and we were trying to get a room together but somehow this other guy got thrown in the mix."

Jungwoo made a sympathetic noise. "Is he nice, at least?"

"Seems nice," Johnny said.

"Also seems a little annoying," Mark added, "but maybe that's just because he's clearly an extrovert, and I'm not."

Johnny laughed. "Don't be mean, Mark."

"How are your roommates?" Mark asked the table, ignoring Johnny completely.

Kun sighed. "They seem alright, if a bit too energetic," he said with a smile. "I'm sure we'll get along eventually."

"My roommate is great," Jungwoo bragged. "He's quiet and clean, and we both like sports."

Ten spotted the same boy from that morning again, and tuned out of the conversation. He'd changed and was now wearing an oversized denim jacket on top of a plain white t-shirt and thin grey joggers. Ten tried very hard not to stare at his ass when he turned around, but he couldn't help it, not when the joggers were so flattering, not when everything about this boy was so cute.

If he had to describe his sex drive, Ten supposed he'd use the words  _ unbearably horny _ . It drove his friends up the wall sometimes, the way he'd jump from boy to boy, never able to keep it in his pants once he'd acquired a new target. He knew he was kind of exhausting, but he was not apologetic about it. He had fun, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a slut if it always got him what he wanted.

"Hello, earth to Ten." It was Kun, snapping his fingers in Ten's ear.

"What?" Ten asked, somewhat absently.

"Where did you go?" Kun followed his gaze before Ten could hide what he'd been looking at, and narrowed his eyes. "We were thinking about going to hang in Johnny and Mark's room, wanna come?"

"Sure, yeah." Ten realized that Jungwoo and Johnny were already putting their dishes away, and stood, collecting his things. 

"Already?" Kun asked, quiet so that Mark wouldn't hear. "We've been here for three days."

"He's cute," Ten defended. "And I swear I know him from somewhere."

Mark heard, anyway. "Know who?"

"Ten was staring at a boy," Kun explained, rolling his eyes.

"Aw, does somebody have a crush?" Mark asked, grinning.

"No," Ten said, perhaps a little more curtly than he had intended. "I don't get crushes."

Mark gave him a rather confused look, but Ten didn't feel like elaborating. Luckily, he was spared from doing so, as Johnny and Jungwoo had returned. 

The thing was, he was pretty much telling the truth.  _ Crush _ implied some kind of emotional desire, an affliction Ten was proud to say he had never suffered. He'd never been in love, and never wanted to be. It was too time-consuming and despite his sometimes lazy tendencies, he was incredibly ambitious, and he would rather focus on his career than other people. Still, he was young and had needs, which were easily fulfilled by an ongoing string of hookups. He'd watched his friends tear themselves up over relationships, and had simply decided it wasn't for him.

So did Ten want this boy? Undoubtedly, yes. But did he have a crush on him? Absolutely not.

They spent the rest of the night in Johnny and Mark's room, where they met the third roommate. Though Ten tried to stay engaged, his thoughts just kept drifting back to the pretty boy in the dining hall.

"You have to help me find out who he is," he begged Kun as they headed back to their own rooms. "I want to get to know him."

"You want to fuck him," Kun corrected wryly, but he agreed nonetheless. "I hope you know that you're the most ridiculous person I've ever met."

"And you love me for it." Ten gave him a cheeky smile. "Night, Kun!"

\--  ♥♡♥ \--

Despite his exasperation, Ten had to hand it to Kun. Within the first week of classes, Kun had managed to befriend the boy and brought him to lunch with him, where he'd promised to meet Ten.

"This is my friend Ten," Kun said. His voice was so even, measured; Ten didn't know how he got so lucky. "Ten, this is Taeyong. He's in my production class.

"Hi, Taeyong." The name sparked a faint memory, but Ten didn't have the chance to chase it down before it disappeared.

"Hi." Taeyong's voice was soft and sweet and it made Ten's skin tingle. He sat opposite of him, gently placing his plate on the table. "Hey--I think I know you."

Ten gave him a charming smile. "Yeah? I could swear I've seen you somewhere, too."

Taeyong's eyes grew brighter. "Wait, did you go to that arts camp over the summer a couple years ago? For like, 'talented youth' or whatever?"

Ten blinked, suddenly thrown back in time, because Taeyong was right. "Yes!" he said. "Yes, I did, two years ago, after sophomore year of high school. You were the one that was really good at rapping."

"Yeah, and you were amazing at dance," Taeyong said. "And art--I remember your drawings were really cool."

"Oh, you guys already know each other," Kun said mildly, and Ten had to swallow a laugh. "What a coincidence!"

"I guess so!" Taeyong chirped, none the wiser. "Do you still dance, Ten?"

"Yes, I'm hoping to major in it," Ten told him. "What about you?"

"I want to go into music production, like Kun," Taeyong said. "But I still rap and sing. Hey, maybe we can all make a track together, and like, you could choreograph it? That would be cool."

"Really cool," Ten agreed, pulling out his phone and sliding it across the table. "Here, why don't you give me your number? We can work on it whenever you want, or just hang out. I'd love to catch up."

"Sure!" Taeyong busied himself entering his contact info, and while he was distracted, Kun found Ten's eyes to give him a look.

Ten gave him a determined look in return before accepting his phone back from Taeyong. He saw the other boy had saved himself as "tyong 🍈" and stifled a giggle. 

"Why the little melon?" he asked.

"It's my favorite fruit," Taeyong replied. "I like watermelons especially because they’re pink, which is my favorite color. What's yours?"

"Black," Ten said, laughing. "And I don't eat fruit. Guess we're kind of opposites, huh?"

Taeyong giggled back, and Ten felt his heart clench in his chest. He couldn't wait to get his hands on him, and from the way Kun rolled his eyes, he knew he wasn't being subtle about it at all.

\--  ♥♡♥ \--

Ten lay in bed that evening, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of Taeyong drowning out everything else. Now that Taeyong had identified himself in Ten's memories, his image was clear. He remembered his soft smile and how the way he danced made anything look easy, how the older kids at the camp all seemed to adore him, and how kind he was to the younger ones. He remembered how when he laughed really hard, the pitch of his voice rose to almost impossible heights, and how whenever he heard it, Ten couldn't help but laugh, too.

One time, they had been rehearsing for the showcase that concluded the camp. Ten kept watching Taeyong out of the corners of his eyes. Though they were younger then, still growing into their bodies, Taeyong's jaw already had the sharp edge that drew Ten's eyes to him that first day in the dining hall, and the way the light danced across his cheekbones had been mesmerizing. So Ten hadn't really been paying attention to much else, just going through the motions of the dance. One of the other kids had stumbled and fell, almost tripping a few other people around him in the process. The instructor began to scold him for being careless, and when the kid began to cry, he scolded him for that, too.

But Taeyong was there by his side in an instant, comforting him and making sure he hadn't hurt himself. Once he was satisfied that the kid was more shocked than anything else, he had rounded on the instructor, big, pretty eyes blazing, and chewed him out for being mean and irresponsible. It had gotten him sent to the director's office, but he didn't get in any real trouble. Ten remembered watching all of this unfold, surprised at how quick Taeyong had been to act, and how fearless he had been in standing up for the other kid. Ten wasn't like that, just tended to keep his head down, grit his teeth and set his jaw, and got his work done. He'd always admired that moment. Really, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten Taeyong so quickly. 

His phone chimed, and he rolled over to grab it off the windowsill where it sat charging.

from: tyong 🍈

**> > hi! I hope you're not asleep yet. my friend is**

**throwing a party this weekend, and you**

**should come! bring kun too**

**> > he said he got some alcohol, and we're**

**gonna play games**

Ten smiled, and was quick to type back:

to: tyong 🍈

**I'd love that! I'll let kun know. When <<**

**and where?**

from: tyong 🍈

**> > building b in the quad, room 322! 9pm**

**but if you wanna come earlier to help**

**set up, I wouldn't mind. I'll be there**

**around 7:30 or 8**

to: tyong 🍈

**it's a date :) <<**

Ten set his phone aside, a pleased smile spreading across his face. 

The door to their room opened, and Kunhang entered, hair dripping from his shower. "What are you smiling about?" he asked lightly as he set his things down and clambered into bed.

"Oh," Ten said, rolling over onto his back once more, hugging the covers up to his chin. "Nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you like it, please feel free to leave me a comment or check out my other works! I write a lot for nct/superm these days so if you have a request and like my writing style, i'd be happy to know! You can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about), and on that page you will also find a link to my buy me a coffee! as always i don't expect anything, however i will say right now I'm in the middle of moving out as my parents' house is no longer a safe or healthy place for me, and any extra funds for the upcoming schoolyear would be deeply appreciated <3


	2. two (taeyong)

For the next couple of weeks, it felt to Taeyong like his phone was burning a hole in his pocket. Any notification could be from Ten, and when it was, it sent him into a state of near panic, and when it wasn't, it made him feel hollow and strange. 

"Dude, just fuck him already," Doyoung, Taeyong's roommate, said, lifting his head to watch as Taeyong typed excitedly on his phone. "If he didn't like you he wouldn't keep trying to hang out with you."

"But what if he's just hanging out as friends?" Taeyong looked up from his phone, eyebrows pinched and the shadow of a pout threatening on his lips. 

"Oh, please," Doyoung said. "Have you seen the way he looks at you? Besides, last time you 'hung out,' he sang you a Troye Sivan song. How many more hints do you need before you act on it?"

"I'll act on it when you work up the nerve to say something to Jungwoo," Taeyong retorted, sticking out his tongue when Doyoung opened his mouth to protest. "We'll see what happens tomorrow."

"You say that every time you go to a party that he's gonna be at," Doyoung reminded him. "And then all you do is kind of hover around him and giggle whenever he says anything to you, and then go home--"

"All right, I get it, I suck." Taeyong waved him off, shaking his head. 

"You don't suck, you just need to be more confident." Doyoung rolled his eyes. "The only reason I've been taking it slow with Woo is because I don't wanna scare him off. You don't have that problem with Ten, I can guarantee you. I don't think that guy is afraid of anything."

"Yeah, but I am."

"Face your fears," Doyoung said dryly. "I'll even let you sexile me if you two can finally stop dancing these weird little circles around each other."

"Oh, how grand of you," Taeyong grumbled. Doyoung rewarded him by hurling a pillow at his head.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

To be fair, Doyoung's accusations were completely well-founded. Taeyong was a timid person, at least when it came to things like this. And Ten was... almost otherworldly. The way he moved was so eye-catching, and he was so determined and bright and strong. Why on earth would he want someone like Taeyong?

And yet, it was undeniable that Ten's eyes always landed on him. It was undeniable that Ten went out of his way to spend time with him, that his hands always found their way to Taeyong's hands and shoulders and back, touch light and teasing. It was undeniable that when they'd danced around a practice room to Ten's rendition of  _ My My My! _ , the air had been thick and strange, that when their eyes had met in the mirror, Taeyong's heart had almost vacated his body via his throat from the way Ten was looking at him.

It was everywhere they went together, that feeling of strange tightness, that feeling that Taeyong was about to be catapulted off the edge of an abyss, and he knew it was taking a toll on all their friends. Doyoung made light of it, really, as he tried to be as helpful as he could with his complaints, but he knew it must be excruciating to watch them, sometimes. Taeyong had no idea if Ten was getting any shit for it on his end, though at times he'd catch Kun rolling his eyes, and he was pretty sure that was answer enough.

_ So why can't he just listen to Kun and make a move already? _ Taeyong thought to himself as he scrutinized his appearance in the mirror.

"Can you stop fussing? Everyone's already there," Doyoung said, hand already on the doorknob, impatient. 

"Isn't it, like, etiquette to be fashionably late to a pregame unless you're best friends with the host?" Taeyong countered absently, carefully sweeping a few strands at the top of his head to the side.

"First of all, we are no longer fashionably late, we are just late,” Doyoung corrected sourly. “And second of all, we  _ are _ best friends with Yukhei and Sicheng."

Taeyong made a face at him in lieu of an argument. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

"Jesus, finally."

"You just want to see Jungwoo," Taeyong said as he slipped out their door behind Doyoung.

"Yeah, and you just want to put off seeing Ten," Doyoung countered. "So shut up."

Taeyong could hear the music reverberating against the walls from all the way down the hall. "They're gonna get a noise complaint," he said, laughing as they drew nearer.

"It's Yukhei; if a day goes by where he  _ doesn't _ get a noise complaint, he considers it a day wasted," Doyoung pointed out, pushing the door open.

As if to prove his point, Yukhei spotted them as soon as they entered and yelled, "Ay! What's up, guys? Glad you could finally make it!" He pointed over some people's heads towards the wall. "Drinks are on my desk and snacks are on Sicheng's! Venmo me 2 bucks for each, okay? If you're gonna smoke, take the screen off my window and do it out of there."

"Thanks," Taeyong said, trying not to laugh. He followed Doyoung to where the drinks were, making a small noise of appreciation when he handed him a cup of whatever jungle juice Sicheng had concocted. Taking a small drink and finding it acceptable, he moved away, snagging a chip on his way before settling against the wall next to Yuta. 

Yuta flashed him an easy grin. "Hey, Taeyong." He downed whatever was left in his cup and slung an arm over his shoulder. "How are you?"

"Stressed and sleep-deprived, as always." Taeyong raised his cup. "But you know. That's why... this."

"You and me both," Yuta agreed. Taeyong laughed, going for another sip.

"Hey." It was a new voice, one that had a slightly angry edge to it. Taeyong froze, raising his head to see Ten standing in front of them.

"Hey, Ten." Taeyong's voice was small, sheepish, and he didn't even know why.

There was a beat, and it almost seemed like Ten was staring Yuta down. Yuta acquiesced quickly, detaching himself from Taeyong with a small nod. "I'm gonna get another drink," he said, slipping away.

"Hey," Ten said again, softer this time, clinking his solo cup against Taeyong's. "What took you so long?"

"My hair wouldn't behave," Taeyong admitted. "Doyoung wasn't happy with me."

"Mm." Ten surveyed him. "Well, it looks like you figured it out, so it was worth it. Though," he added, a glint in his eye now, "I haven't seen you have a bad hair day yet, so I don't think it could've been that dire."

Taeyong blushed. "Well, just you wait." 

"Come on, let's finish our drinks so we can dance." Ten nodded at Taeyong's still mostly-full cup. "I can finally have fun, now that you're here."

"Our friends are also fun," Taeyong argued, though he did as he was told, doing his best to chug, feeling the pit of his stomach burn when the liquor hit it. 

"Yeah, but you're different." He said it so nonchalantly, and Taeyong felt a warm flush spread across his chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol, pleased but also a little disturbed by the way it made his heart hammer, the sound ringing in his ears. "So c'mon."

"Yeah, okay." Taeyong set his cup down and took Ten's hand, letting him drag him closer to the speaker, where Yangyang and Ten's roommate, Kunhang, were currently engaged in a heated but ridiculous dance battle. 

Ten drew him closer and Taeyong let him, giggling when their elbows knocked against each other. Ten made a silly face at him, twirling him like they were ballroom dancing and not listening to whatever EDM Yukhei was into lately. 

They moved together, laughing breathlessly as they tried to follow each other's dance moves, Taeyong acutely aware of Ten's presence directly behind him. The small part of him that was an incurable whore (Doyoung's words, not his) wanted Ten to dig his fingers into Taeyong's hips, to press their bodies together. He wanted Ten to lean in close to his neck, to bite a few marks there. Taeyong couldn't help it, couldn't help that his breathing was coming in shorter, more irregular gasps as he turned around to face Ten again and saw the way the sweat gleamed off his cheekbones and his shoulders, the way he looked at him through half-lidded eyes, shadowed by bangs that clung to his forehead. He looked like something straight out of a wet dream, and all Taeyong wanted to do was lean in and  _ take _ .

He felt the alcohol settle into his system, his head getting light and his limbs going a bit fuzzy. Taeyong was a renowned lightweight, so Ten wasn't surprised when he stumbled, nearly bowling him over in the process. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you to chug, huh?" Ten said with a light laugh, gripping his arm to steady him.

"'M good, don't worry about it," Taeyong said. "Probably shouldn't have any more, though."

Ten wrapped an arm around him, hugging him close. "Let's take a breather anyway. Can't have you hurting yourself."

Taeyong nodded, not really caring about anything other than the fact that he was pressed right up next to Ten, could smell his deodorant, could feel the warmth of his body against his side. Ten guided him to the side and though Taeyong wasn't that drunk, really, he let himself be coddled. They passed Doyoung, who gave Taeyong a pointed look that basically said,  _ Okay good, now get on with it. _ Taeyong stuck his tongue out at him again.

"Want some water?" Though Taeyong was now situated comfortably against a wall, Ten's fingers lingered on his forearms. 

"I'm okay," Taeyong said, not wanting him to pull away. "I'm not drunk, I'm just clumsy."

"Okay," Ten said, kind of skeptical. 

They passed the time like that as the pregame wound itself down and people started migrating out the door, toward the bigger parties that started later in the night.

"Wanna come?" Ten asked.

Taeyong did, but he was also tired, and he did have a mountain of homework he'd have to face in the morning, so he shook his head. "I should probably turn in. I have so much to do. If you want me to be there tomorrow night, I better head to bed."

"Okay," Ten said easily. "I'll just go to bed too, then, as long as you promise you'll stay up with me tomorrow."

"It's a deal," Taeyong agreed. Ten linked their arms and they bid their farewells, heading back across campus to their building. The night air was welcome against Taeyong's heated skin, and he smiled as a light breeze ruffled his hair. 

They walked in amiable silence, Ten keeping them on course while Taeyong looked up at the sky. 

"It's pretty, right?" Ten said softly. "I'm from a city, so it's nice to see so many stars out in the suburbs, where there's less light pollution."

"I went camping up in the mountains one time," Taeyong said. "Like, really remote. And I had no idea there were so many stars. It was like the whole sky was alive. It was so beautiful. I think that was probably the most at peace I've ever been in my life."

"Ooh, don't know if I could do camping. Too many bugs," Ten said, laughing. "Sounds nice, though."

"Mm." Taeyong tilted his head back up, blinking against the bright light of the moon.

"Taeyong."

"Hm?" He realized they'd stopped walking, a few feet from the entrance to their dorm. 

Ten tugged on his arm lightly, and Taeyong turned to face him. He was smiling, his skin sparkling in the dim glow.

"You look so pretty right now," Ten said, and before Taeyong could react to the blunt force trauma of that statement, Ten's lips were on his. Instinctively, Taeyong's hands found Ten's jaw, pressing into him insistently, making Ten take a small step back. Ten smiled into the kiss, recovering quickly and anchoring an arm around Taeyong's waist.

It felt like ages before they finally broke away, hearing voices drawing near. Taeyong tried not to panic, but what was he supposed to do, when the boy he was obsessed with just told him he thought he was  _ pretty _ , and then kissed him like  _ that _ ?

They stared at each other for a moment, wide-eyed, catching their breath. Finally, Taeyong coughed and squeaked out, "Um, 'night, Ten!" before fleeing inside, opting to take the stairs up to his hall, leaving Ten frozen outside.

He collapsed on his bed, groaning, heart still going a mile a minute in his poor little chest, cheeks burning from embarrassment. He was going to have to tell Doyoung about it, and the onslaught of ridicule that would bring was not something he was looking forward to. But what the fuck was he supposed to do now? Ten probably thought he was crazy, or stupid, or both, or, even worse, not interested in him when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"Maybe I'll just die right now, and then I won't have to fucking deal with it," he muttered to himself as he changed into his pajamas, too sick of being conscious to bother with a shower. 

  
  


\-- ♥♡♥ --

“How’d last night go?” Doyoung asked as soon as Taeyong sat up in bed the next morning.

“What?” Taeyong rubbed his eyes. 

“Last night! You and Ten walked home together. Did anything happen?”

Taeyong frowned, memories coming back like scattered jigsaw pieces, and he groaned. “Yeah, I think he hates me now, that’s what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Doyoung looked surprised.

“We got back, we were about to head inside, he kissed me, and I ran away like an idiot.” Taeyong spread his hands forlornly. “And I’m sure he thinks I hate him, or I think he’s gross or something. Or that I’m a homophobe.”

“You already came out to him,” Doyoung pointed out, “so you can take that last one off your docket of Illogical Things to Ruminate About.”

“It was my one chance! A chance I didn’t even think I was going to get!” Taeyong lamented, ignoring him. “And I wasted it.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you panicked, that you didn’t mean to leave him hanging.” Doyoung gave him a curious look. “Because that’s what happened, right? Am I missing something?”

“No, that’s what happened.” Taeyong sighed. “But what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, sorry about last night. I like you so much it scares me, and I never thought you’d be remotely interested in me, so you kissing me last night took me by surprise, and because I’m the most awkward person on the planet, I handled it by running away. Hope you don’t think I’m a fuckin’ weirdo!’ Like—”

“Well, don’t say all that, because then you  _ will  _ be a weirdo.” Doyoung put down his phone. “Just say sorry, and that you didn’t mean to run away, you just tend to overthink. You could even go so far as to say you like him. I’m sure he’ll pick it up from there.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Taeyong asked.

“If he doesn’t, then at least you tried,” Doyoung said. “The world will keep spinning and life will go on. You’ll be fine, either way. You agreed to come tonight, right? And pregame at Taeil and Yuta’s? So just talk to him then.”

“I don’t want to, it’ll be so awkward,” Taeyong complained.

“I’ll knock you out and carry you there myself if I have to,” Doyoung threatened, and Taeyong believed him.

And so, he found himself once again in a dark, overcrowded room, music blasting, looking for Ten. At long last, he spotted him by the window and picked his way through the crowd to meet him.

“Taeyong!” Ten’s eyes shone, even in the dim light. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Y-you are?” Taeyong asked, surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I mean, last night. About that—I’m sorry," Taeyong began. "I didn't mean to just—run away—“

"Don't worry about it." Ten gave him a smile, some indiscernible emotion lurking in his eyes. "Come get a drink with me."

And that was that, and Taeyong had no idea where he was supposed to go from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi! thank u for reading! you can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about)! my buy me a coffee is linked to that page as well if youre so inclined 🥰 if you like this fic pls feel free to check out my other work! I have a superm oneshot series, the 4th installment of which should be up in a couple days! ty to those of you who have left this fic comments n kudos u warm my heart!


	3. three (taeyong) [smut!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as mentioned in the title, this chapter contains smut! light dom/sub, nothing crazy!

"Hey." Taeyong looked up from his reading to see Doyoung twisted around in his chair. "I'm gonna go to Jaehyun and Jungwoo's room and probably stay the night, so... you'll have the room to yourself... if, you know..."

Taeyong gave him a dejected look. "You know nothing's going to happen." He couldn't keep the misery out of his voice. "I fucked it up, and he hasn't said anything about it since."

"You're being dumb," Doyoung informed him.

"It's the lack of brain cells," Taeyong said.

"No, seriously." Doyoung turned around fully in his chair. "Text him. Tell him to come hang out tonight, get some snacks or cook something. Suggest a movie. Or--I don't know, say you want to practice some choreography, since you're both such nerds about dance. And just... see where it takes you. Maybe you can, I don't know, do this crazy thing called communication, where you clear up a misunderstanding with words. It's just a thought."

"I'll text him if it'll make you shut up." Taeyong pulled out his phone.

"Okay, good."

to: tennie 🎶

**hey doyoung's spending the night with <<**

**jungwoo and jaehyun, do u wanna come over?**

**I can cook and we can watch a movie <<**

**or something**

His response was almost immediate.

from: tennie 🎶

**> > yeah, I'd love that! do u need me to**

**bring over any supplies? I have sauces**

**and stuff.**

to: tennie 🎶

**maybe an extra plate or we could <<**

**just eat out of the pan. up to you!**

from: tennie 🎶

**> > ok! is 7pm good?**

to: tennie 🎶

**yes! that works. see you! <<**

"Well?" Taeyong didn't realize Doyoung had been watching him.

"He'll be over at seven," Taeyong said, a little resigned just because he didn’t want to admit that maybe Doyoung was right.

"I told you so." He turned back to his work. "When you guys fuck just stay away from my shit, okay? And clean up after yourselves."

"Yeah, I know. Do you think I'm an animal?" Taeyong shook his head. "Besides, I really don't think it's going to come to that."

He couldn't see Doyoung's face, but he could imagine the expression he was making. "I wouldn't be so sure."

\-- ♥♡♥ --

6:50pm found Taeyong pacing nervously in front of the stove as he waited for the water to boil. He didn’t have much reason to be nervous; he’d cleaned up their whole room, and once Doyoung left, he’d turned off the big lights and plugged in a string of fairy lights (at Doyoung’s suggestion, for “mood lighting”). He'd also bugged Doyoung about what to wear for at least an hour before settling on ripped black jeans and a simple blue button-down. Doyoung insisted he keep the top three buttons unbuttoned, saying in a surprisingly accurate Tan France impression that the goal was to make Taeyong "look fuckable".

Taeyong heard the elevator ding faintly through the glass doors of the kitchen, and he turned to see Ten walking out. He waved, and Ten’s face lit up with a bright smile as he waved back. Taeyong felt his stomach do an entire Simone Biles-style floor routine.

“Hi,” Ten said as he closed the door behind him. “What are you making?”

“Tteokbokki,” Taeyong replied, pointing to the noodles that were lying ready next to the pot. “With pork belly.”

“Ooh, yum.” He sounded enthusiastic, and Taeyong let out a little sigh of relief. “I didn’t bring a plate,” he added with a laugh. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Taeyong shook his head. “It’s kind of a one-man job,” he said. “We’d just get in each other’s way, I think. Besides, I like to cook. And… I wanted to do this. For you.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Ten said, taking a seat and graciously ignoring how awkward Taeyong was being. “I’m not great in the kitchen.”

Taeyong nodded, smiling, carefully dumping the noodles into the now-boiling water. “My mom wanted to make sure I could be useful in some way,” he explained. “And since I’m lacking in pretty much every other area of my life, I guess it’s a good thing she taught me how to cook.”

“You are not,” Ten said immediately. “But that’s good of her. My mom said men shouldn’t have to know how to cook, because they have mothers and sisters and, eventually, wives for that. Unfortunately, I ended up gay, so that didn’t really pan out.”

“I can teach you sometime,” Taeyong offered. “I cook all the time.”

“Teach me now,” Ten demanded, leaning forward in his chair to watch.

Taeyong giggled, and walked Ten through the process of boiling noodles. Ten’s eyes followed him wherever he went, paying such avid attention that Taeyong felt he should maybe be a little embarrassed. But, like Taeyong said—cooking was the one thing other than music he knew for sure he was good at. If it had been nearly anything else, he would have been uncomfortable, maybe mortified, but there was something sweet about the way Ten was listening as he explained that it was important to cut the scallions at an angle to bring out more flavor. It was like he was letting Taeyong take care of him, and Taeyong really liked that.

“And done.” Taeyong set the steaming pot down between them, taking the seat opposite Ten and handing him a pair of chopsticks and a little spoon. 

“It looks so good!” Ten shook his head, amazed, as he dug in. “You have some real talent.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong said with a shy smile.

Ten insisted he let him wash the dishes, since he hadn’t helped with the cooking, and when everything was clean, they went back down the hall to Taeyong’s room. 

“We can find a movie to watch,” Taeyong said as Ten made himself comfortable on Taeyong’s bed. “Or we could play Mario Kart.” He pointed at his Nintendo Switch.

“Ooh, yes,” Ten said, nodding. “I’m terrible at Mario Kart, but I have fun.”

Taeyong laughed. “I’ll probably dust you, then. I played all the time with my sister when we were kids.”

“I don’t mind.” Ten gave him another one of those sweet smiles, and Taeyong couldn’t help but melt a little.

They passed the better part of an hour that way, heads bent over the small screen of Taeyong’s Switch, struggling with the tininess of the controllers, laughing and shouting. As expected, Taeyong got first place every single time with Ten happily trailing at about 10th. Finally, Taeyong put his controller down.

“Okay, my hands are cramping,” he admitted, flexing them.

“Mine, too.” There was still laughter in Ten’s eyes, and it made Taeyong so happy. But the bubbly feeling was gone in an instant when he remembered how stupid he had been that night the week before. But Ten was still  _ here _ , wasn’t he? He was still here, which either meant he had also just made a dumb decision and just wanted to forget it so that they could be friends, or… Taeyong was afraid of what going down that second path would do. But he also had a growing feeling that if he didn’t at least try to pursue it, he’d regret it (and even if he didn’t regret it on his own, Doyoung would ensure that he did). Ten had been brave and he’d made the first move, and Taeyong had rejected it, accidentally. It was Taeyong’s job to fix it now.

There was a moment of stillness between them as Taeyong carefully replaced the controllers and put the Switch back to charge. He climbed back onto his bed, facing Ten, and took a deep breath.

“What is it?” Ten’s voice was gentle.

“I… I just—the other night,” Taeyong began, but Ten cut him off.

“I told you, don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“But I  _ want _ to talk about it,” Taeyong said. “Is that okay?” He looked up at Ten, and saw him nodding. “Um, I just… I meant what I said, that I didn’t mean to run away like that. You took me by surprise, and I panicked. I panicked because—because I really like you, and I liked kissing you, and I want to do it again, but I want to do it right, and I’m just—I’m just sorry. I’m sure you must have felt pretty terrible.”

Ten was smiling. “This might be a bit surprising,” he said. “But I already know. I know you like me. I know you  _ want _ me. I also know you’re a very nervous person, by nature. I miscalculated that night. I came to the conclusion that you would never approach me first, and if I just did, then everything would be fine, that you would go along with it. But I didn’t give you enough credit, I think. I needed to give you the opportunity to  _ choose _ me—which I guess this ended up being, but it could have definitely gone better, so I’m sorry about that. The point is—you don’t have to apologize to me.” Taeyong felt his skin tingling; he felt laid bare before Ten somehow; he felt seen, and it was a deeply uncomfortable feeling, surely, but there’s also a spark of warm happiness with it, at the idea that Ten cared enough to look at all. “After you ran inside,” Ten continued, seemingly unaware of Taeyong’s intense emotional turmoil, “you know what I did? I laughed. I laughed so hard. I knew you’d come around, that I just needed to give you a little time to work up the courage to talk about it. And,” he added with a very self-satisfied look, “I was right.”

Taeyong just stared at him. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” he said slowly. “You  _ knew?  _ You knew, and you just let me suffer for a week?”

“I think you needed it.”

“Okay, just kidding, I take it back. I don’t like psychopaths.”

“I’m not a psychopath, Taeyong,” Ten said, laughing and reaching out to take his hand. “Hey. You don’t have to be so scared. I’m not.”

“You’re not scared of anything,” Taeyong mumbled, repeating what Doyoung had told him before. 

“That’s not true,” Ten said with an easy huff of laughter. He moved right up into Taeyong’s space, and it took all of Taeyong’s concentration and willpower not to just collapse back on his elbows right then and there. He wanted to ask,  _ then what  _ are _ you scared of?  _ He wanted to ask,  _ how is it you see me so clearly and I feel like I don’t know a single thing about you?  _ He wanted to ask,  _ so do you like me, too?  _ but he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and let Ten kiss him.

It started easy, soft; they were cross-legged, knees brushing up against each other’s, one of Ten’s hands resting on the nape of Taeyong’s neck to keep them steady, Taeyong’s hands resting limp and useless in his own lap. It kind of reminded Taeyong of playing spin the bottle in 8th grade, when he’d been shoved into a room with a girl and they’d sat awkwardly on the floor, neither sure exactly what to do. Except now, both of them knew precisely what to do, and Taeyong quickly found Ten in his lap, found himself being eased down onto his back.

There was something more heated now about it—it became less about kissing and more about truly making out. Taeyong felt like his lips were bruising but he didn’t care, whined softly at the way Ten slipped his lower lip between his teeth and bit. It was hungry and heady, and through all of it Taeyong found a deep gratefulness that he’d remembered to lock the door.

Ten was holding him in place with his thighs, and Taeyong knew he shouldn’t really be so shocked by his strength, considering how much control he had when he danced, but it still made his head spin. Eventually, Ten pulled away to tug his shirt off, tapping Taeyong’s hip to signal to him to do the same. Taeyong struggled with the buttons, laughing in spite of himself when Ten gave him an amused look, tossing his own t-shirt on the floor and helping him get the last few undone and then wiggle out of the sleeves before discarding it as well. 

Somehow, the strange silliness of the moment didn’t ruin the mood—or maybe it was the way Ten attached himself to Taeyong’s chest the instant he was free of his shirt. Taeyong bucked his hips up automatically when Ten’s mouth closed down around a nipple, pleasure shooting straight down to his cock like shocks of electricity. He mewled as Ten sucked a dark hickey into his collarbone, hands finding purchase on Ten’s back, unable to stop himself from digging his nails in until he was sure Ten was going to walk away from this with crescent-shaped scars. Ten didn’t stop him, though, so Taeyong just dropped his head back and let him cover his chest in deep purple blooms.

“Good?” Ten whispered, voice rough as he made his way down Taeyong’s torso, peppering kisses on his stomach on the way.

“Y-yeah,” Taeyong breathed out, cutting off a sharp inhale with a moan when Ten gripped his waistband. “Please, Ten, touch me.”

“I am touching you, silly,” Ten said, but the teasing only went as far as his words; he was working on the button of Taeyong’s jeans. “D’you know how good you look in these, baby?” he asked, and Taeyong’s eyes rolled back in his head at the pet name. “I think you do. I think you picked them out just for me.”

“Mm,” Taeyong agreed, lifting his hips so Ten could shimmy the pants in question down his thighs. “Wanted to look good for you, wanted to be pretty,” he confessed, and Ten hummed low in his throat. “Wanted you to want me, too.”

“I already do.” Taeyong shivered, partially from Ten’s words and partially from the chill at being suddenly, completely naked. He kind of liked it, though, liked that Ten was still clothed when he was exposed, vulnerable. Ten situated himself between Taeyong’s thighs, spitting in his hand and then taking Taeyong’s cock, pumping quickly a couple of times.

“Mm, fu-uck,” Taeyong groaned, biting his lip to distract himself. It was so stupid, he was already so close, and Ten had barely done anything at all. He made a little noise of defeat as a thick bead of precome dribbled out of his cock. “Ten—I—“

“So needy,” Ten said, but there wasn’t accusation in his tone. Taeyong let out an embarrassed sob anyway, covering his face with one of his hands as his hips jerked up weakly into Ten’s fist. “No, it’s cute, Taeyong. I like that I do this to you, because you make me feel like this, too.” He stroked over him faster, other hand reaching down to play with Taeyong’s hole. Taeyong gasped, shaking, because it was  _ so much _ , because he felt like he’d been waiting  _ forever _ , and now finally, here in the low light of his room, Taeyong lay, kissed breathless, Ten kneeling over him, looking like a fallen angel, maybe; half terrible temptation, half holy. 

“Ten…” he breathed out, like a prayer. Ten gave him an indulgent smile, resting the hand that wasn’t around Taeyong’s dick on his waist, almost like he was grounding him, a small reassurance.

“It’s okay, baby, you can come,” he said. Taeyong shivered, hated how much he loved it when Ten called him  _ baby _ . It made him feel small, precious. He knew, right now anyway, they didn’t mean anything to each other, but he liked the implication. He blinked, realizing Ten was still speaking. “I’ll just make you come again on my cock, does that sound good?”

“God, yes, yes, yes.” Taeyong squeezed his eyes shut, arching into Ten’s hands, coughing out another moan when he felt Ten’s lips on the head of his cock. A small ember of shame burned in his stomach, mixing with the arousal as he let go, unable to even warn Ten, coming in his mouth. Ten didn’t seem put off in the slightest, instead just taking him deeper and blowing him through it, running a thumb comfortingly over his hip bone as he wound himself down.

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly when Ten finally pulled off of him with an obscene and definitely purposeful  _ pop _ . “I… didn’t mean to.”

Ten just grinned, crawling up to give him a kiss. Taeyong could taste traces of himself in Ten’s mouth, and whimpered. “I don’t mind. I liked it. And I want you to feel good.”

Taeyong squirmed under him, shaking Ten’s hands off of him when he tried to pet down his sides. He appreciated the care, but they could always cuddle later. Right now, he wanted one thing. “Don’t need you to treat me nice like this,” he explained when Ten gave him a quizzical look. “Just hurry up and fuck me.”

“Oh?” Ten arched an eyebrow, deftly climbing off him. “But what if I wanna treat you nice? Turn over for me.” He produced a little packet of lube and a condom from his back pocket before shucking off his jeans and briefs in one go. Taeyong didn’t have the energy to ask, preoccupied as he flipped over onto his stomach.

“No, you don’t.” In the warm afterglow of his orgasm, he felt bold, humming happily as Ten hoisted himself back up onto the bed, the soft skin of his pretty thighs sliding against his own.

“You’re right,” Ten said, his voice dipping low and dangerous. “I don’t.”

“Good,” Taeyong said over his shoulder. “Cuz I’ve seen the way you look at me. It’s not nice, and I like that.”

“Yeah?” Ten grabbed Taeyong’s hips, pulling him up so that he was forced to bend his knees and press his face into his pillow. “Want me to fuck you rough, till you can’t come anymore? Want me to make sure you feel it in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong breathed back, stuttering over a moan when Ten pushed a lube-slicked finger into his entrance with no preamble. “Want you to r-ruin me.”

“I can do that.” Ten’s voice was satin and full of promise, and Taeyong sighed as he added a second finger, happy with the way it stretched and burned. “Gonna fuck you till you’re all red and crying, so pretty for me, make you beg for my come.” Taeyong moaned into his pillow in response. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, I wanna get fucked dumb, wanted it for so long,” Taeyong admitted, cheeks burning. “Liked you ever since that summer, thought you were so handsome. I was so happy to see that growing up just made you more beautiful.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful, baby?” Ten sounded like he was smiling. Taeyong opened his mouth to respond, but his words died in his throat when Ten brushed his fingers over his prostate. Taeyong’s cock twitched against his stomach and he closed his eyes, jaw going slack. “Mm, found it.” Victorious, Ten did it again, swiping over the spot that made Taeyong see stars. Taeyong cried out brokenly. “Maybe one of these days I’ll just do this, just milk your prostate until you pass out. I’d love to see how long you could last.”

Taeyong couldn’t even process that, stuck on the idea that Ten was promising not  _ one _ next time, but  _ multiple _ . He fucked himself back on Ten’s fingers, clenching around him. “More,” he whined. “Please, gimme more.”

Ten didn’t reply, just worked another finger in beside the first two, wiggling them a little to get them settled, and to get Taeyong used to it before pulling them all out and shoving them back in again. Taeyong rocked forward, letting out another breathy moan.

“You seem like a size queen,” Ten said matter-of-factly from behind him, a note of curiosity in his voice as he thrust his fingers in and out at an even pace. “Bet I could stretch you wide open. You’re little but you could take it.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Taeyong said, too enthralled with the idea of Ten stuffing him full with toys to be embarrassed. “I’d like that so much.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” Ten pulled his fingers out and Taeyong tried to steady his breathing, hearing soft rustling from what he assumed was the condom wrapper. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes.” It came out only just above a whisper, Taeyong pushing himself back a little, trying to spread his legs a little more without breaking his own back to get Ten to hurry up. 

“So pretty,” Ten murmured, securing a hand on Taeyong’s hip. Taeyong felt the tip of his cock bump against his hole and almost wept with want for it. Ten ran his other hand down Taeyong’s spine, his touch light. “Relax,” he instructed. Almost excruciatingly slowly, he pushed in, Taeyong alternating between hurt little whimpers and begging for more, until Ten bottomed out.

For all his care before, he barely gave Taeyong a moment to catch his breath before giving a few shallow thrusts, and then immediately ramping up the pace. The hand that was on Taeyong’s back slipped down to the bed beside them as Ten leaned forward, curling around him. “You’re so  _ fucking _ tight,” Ten said, voice thin and strained. It was the least control Taeyong had heard from him all evening, and he felt a burst of pride, knew it was all because of him. Ten shifted his hips slightly and in the next thrust in, he hit Taeyong’s prostate, already swollen from his earlier abuse.

Taeyong wailed, cutting himself off by biting his pillow, a little embarrassed. He heard Ten make a disappointed hum in the back of his throat. 

“Wish I could hear you,” he said. “But I don’t want your neighbors to hate me.”

“I almost don’t care,” Taeyong panted back, raising his head just slightly so Ten could hear him. “It’s almost worth it—“ The end of the sentence turned into a high-pitched mewl as Ten snapped his hips forward particularly hard. Taeyong could feel his cock drooling against the sheets, knew it was going to be annoying to clean, but he was well past those worries. “ _ Fuck _ , Ten, feels so good.”

Ten responded by lowering his head to kiss the small of Taeyong’s back. There was something deeply intimate about it; or maybe Taeyong just liked the feeling of Ten’s mouth on him and he didn’t care where, but it created a tightness in his chest that punched another low moan out of Taeyong’s throat. He clenched around Ten on his next thrust in, and Ten  _ growled _ , teeth nipping at the skin of Taeyong’s lower back.

“You keep that up and I’m gonna come,” Ten warned, the raggedness of his voice harsh and welcome against Taeyong’s ears.

Taeyong did it again, on purpose this time. “Ca-can’t help it,” he said. “Want you, all of you, love the way you fill me up.”

“You have me,” Ten murmured against his skin, and Taeyong’s head  _ spun _ . He wished he did. Maybe it was just that he was quickly losing his capacity to think, the way the head of Ten’s cock hit his prostate sure and true with every stroke quickly rendering his brain useless, but he wanted that, wanted to have this any time or all the time, wanted Ten to be his. “God, you look so good, bent over, skin so pretty and pink, like a perfect little slut.”

“Your fault,” Taeyong accused, his voice small, trying to ignore the fact that Ten calling him a slut had a very similar effect as when he called him baby, despite how the two words could not be more different. “‘M not—I don’t get this way for just anybody.”

“I did this?” Ten faked surprise. “You got on your hands and knees just for me, baby? I’m honored.”

“Mm, had to, knew you’d fuck me so well—ah!” The last noise was near a squeal, a reaction to Ten slamming his hips forward. Taeyong bit his tongue, caught by surprise, and he tasted blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, even willing to admit that he liked that he’d hurt himself, liked the pain and the smell of copper. He let his knees slide together, knocking lightly as his thighs shook, mind going blank. “T-ten, ‘m close, ‘m gonna come.”

“Already?” Ten’s tone wasn’t nearly as scathing as Taeyong felt he deserved. “See, I told you I’d get you to come again on my cock.” Taeyong made a noise halfway between a sob and a moan, nodding, even though he wasn’t quite sure what it was he was agreeing to. “Come for me, then, baby, show me how good I make you feel.”

Taeyong’s breath hitched in his throat, tears stinging behind his eyes at the overstimulation and the humiliation of being made to come twice in such a short span of time, but outweighing that was his need to come, so close now he could almost taste it. He clenched his jaw, gritting out a noise of pure desire when he felt Ten’s hand wrap around his cock.

“Please,” he rambled, torn between pushing back on Ten’s dick and fucking himself forward into Ten’s fist. “Please, sir, make me come.” Ten paused for only a second before picking right back up where he left off, groaning, the hand on Taeyong’s cock moving even faster, making Taeyong dizzy with lust. It only took a few more seconds, Ten still fucking him so hard Taeyong’s breath hiccuped in and out, staccato sounds of need, and Taeyong was coming, dirtying his sheets and making them both curse under their breath.

“Thank you, sir,” Taeyong panted out when he finally had the mind to. He hadn’t missed the way Ten had reacted the first time he’d let the name slip out, less tentative now that he had a feeling for what Ten liked.

“Fuck, baby,” Ten spat out, pressing further in and grinding his hips in little circles, fingers almost bruising on Taeyong’s hips.

“You like it when I call you sir?” Taeyong asked, relieved and hopeful.

“It puts way too much power in my hands,” Ten hissed, almost as if he were warning Taeyong. “But yes, yes, I like it.”

Taeyong smiled. “I don’t mind,” he said. “Use me, sir, gimme your come.”

Ten took that to heart, palm landing between Taeyong’s shoulder blades and pushing him into the bed, thrusts now slightly erratic. Taeyong clenched around him, determined, almost like this was a competition, though even if it was, he’d already lost. 

Still, it had the desired effect. Ten dug his nails into Taeyong’s sweaty skin, choking on a moan as he came. Taeyong could feel the heat of his release even through the condom, and he almost giggled out loud at his own thoughts, wishing the barrier wasn’t there.  _ We need to both go get tested  _ tomorrow _ , ‘cuz if we don’t need a condom I don’t want one. _

After a moment, Ten made an uncomfortable noise and pulled out, pushing himself off of Taeyong, and off the bed. Taeyong opened an eye, watching as he quickly disposed of the condom and related wrappers, and then found his underwear and tugged them back on. 

“Do you have a spare sheet?” he asked Taeyong. “I’m assuming you need it. Sorry,” he added. “Next time we’ll flip you around so cleanup is easier.”

“So we  _ will  _ be doing this again,” Taeyong confirmed. “Great. Um, yeah.” He forced himself to sit up, though his limbs felt heavy. “I’ll do it.”

“Do you have a washcloth or something?” Ten nodded at Taeyong’s tummy, where Taeyong felt his come drying quickly. “Unless you want to shower. But I could go run a cloth under water or something so you could clean up?”

“That’s nice of you, thanks,” Taeyong agreed, reaching over to his bookshelf where his hand towel was folded neatly, grabbing it and tossing it to Ten. “I’ll change the sheets. Are you… are you gonna stay?”

Ten hesitated, struggling to get his shoes on. “What time is it?”

“A little past eleven,” Taeyong replied, confused. 

Ten nodded. “Do you want me to? It might be a good idea, so I don’t disturb Kunhang.”

Taeyong felt his heart light up. “I’d like that, yeah.”

An inscrutable look passed over Ten’s face for just an instant, but it was gone so fast Taeyong wasn’t sure if he imagined it. “Okay, then. Be back in a sec.”

Taeyong took a hand wipe to his sheets, scrubbing the spot until his arm started to burn, then threw his duvet and pillows onto his chair and yanked the sheets off, balling them up and shoving them into his laundry basket before fetching the new ones. The door clunked against the frame, and then Taeyong heard a knock. 

“Yong? It’s locked.”

Taeyong laughed, slipping the last corner of the fresh sheet over his mattress. “One second, one second.” He threw the pillows and covers back on the bed and hurried to the door to let him in.

“I regret going in just my underwear,” Ten informed him, handing him the washcloth and kicking off his shoes. “I think your RA saw me standing outside from down the hall.”

“I’m sure he’s seen worse,” Taeyong assured him, swiping the washcloth over his body and then going to his dresser to pick out some pajamas. “Do you want a shirt to sleep in or something?” he asked, pointing to the overflowing drawer.

Ten smiled and shook his head. “I usually sleep in just my underwear. Is that okay?”

Taeyong gave him a funny look as he fought to get his arm through the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Yeah? I’m not going to be uncomfortable or anything. I just saw you naked—your dick was just in my ass, like, less than 10 minutes ago. I think I’ll be fine.”

Ten laughed aloud. “I was just checking!”

Taeyong rolled his eyes, unplugging the string lights and hopping back up on his bed, rearranging the pillows. “Come here,” he said, almost petulant, and Ten did, nearly knocking their heads together as he got situated beside him.

They curled up under the covers, facing each other, Taeyong’s back pressed up against the wall, Ten’s back towards the door. Ten brushed a little hair out of Taeyong’s eyes, and then yelped when Taeyong pushed his freezing toes onto his shins.

“I hate you,” he said, closing his eyes, but he was laughing.

“Sorry,” Taeyong replied, not really meaning it, slotting his feet between Ten’s calves, wiggling his neck on his pillow to get comfortable.

He watched Ten, eyelids drooping, as he fell to sleep. Even like this, pressed peacefully against his body, warm and sated, he still thought Ten looked unreal, still felt reverence rise like oil in water in his chest. He traced the delicate lines of his brow bone and his lips with his eyes, counted his eyelashes, illuminated by the moonlight. A little anxious feeling raised its head, and Taeyong bit his lip. He wanted to give his  _ everything _ to this boy, even if Ten didn’t give him  _ anything _ in return. Even scarier, he had a feeling Ten might just let him.

As he said. Half terrible temptation, half holy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ty ty for reading! please lmk what you think in the comments! as always, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about), where you can also find my buy me a coffee! feel free to check out my other works as well. I might do a special double-update next week or the week after just cuz i do have the next few chapters ready to go and I don't want to withhold them for no reason lol! thanks again!


	4. four (ten)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! I'm sitting on soooo many chapters of this so I figured I'd put out this one a little early. i'll still be posting another update on friday! I just figured I'd speed things along since I can^^

Ten woke to pale, early morning sunlight. Trying to be as subtle as he could, he turned over in bed and carefully fished his phone up from the floor by the charging cord.  _ 6am. _ He turned to look at the boy next to him, warm and curled up close, and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing Taeyong couldn’t hear him. “I’m about to do something kind of shitty. If you stick with me at all, I think you’ll come to learn that being shitty is my brand.” Carefully, he disentangled his other arm, which had fallen asleep, pulling away and rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a soft thump, tucking the blankets back around Taeyong so he wouldn’t miss the warmth. He tiptoed around the room, quickly pulling his clothes on, finding his shoes and his keys, and shoving his phone in his pocket. 

Without so much as a backwards glance, he stepped out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Kunhang was still asleep when Ten got back to their room, hair barely visible above his blankets, snoring softly. Ten smiled a little to himself, gathering up some things and heading to the bathroom for a shower. 

The dining halls wouldn’t have any food available until around 9 or 10, so Ten settled down to do some homework. Luckily, he and Kunhang both liked to sleep with the blinds open, so there wasn’t a lack of light, and soon Ten had made a serious dent in all his work. The sun rose higher, and he heard Kunhang shift in his bed behind him.

“Good morning,” he said, voice still a little rough from sleep, but clearly very amused. “I take it last night went well.”

Ten turned around and beamed at him. “Yep!” He grinned. “Very well.”

“Guess I better figure out whose room I’m gonna crash in next time, then.” Kunhang said it good-naturedly, stretching and yawning. “What time is it? Did you guys already have breakfast?”

“It’s a little past nine,” Ten said. “And, uh, no. I woke up early and left.” He nodded at his laptop. “I wanted to get some work done.”

Kunhang frowned. “So he’s just gonna wake up alone?”

Ten tried not to cringe. “He’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but there  _ is  _ something to be said for morning sex,” Kunhang pointed out, shrugging as he swung his legs around off the edge of his bed. “He also might be a little sad. He seems like the type.”

“I said, he’ll be fine.” Ten didn’t like the way Kunhang’s words twisted around his stomach, filling him with unwanted guilt. “It’s not like—like we’re dating or anything. Just hooking up.”

“Well, don’t come for my ass when he bugs you about it.” Kunhang wrapped his towel around his shoulders. “I’m gonna shower, and then head to breakfast, if you want to join me for that. Or, you know, you could text Taeyong.”

Ten just grumbled at him, and turned back to his computer.

Almost as if the universe had been listening to this conversation, not a minute passed before Ten’s phone chimed.

from: tyong 🍈

**> > are you ok? Where’d you go?**

**> > if you’re not busy, do you wanna meet me**

**downstairs for breakfast?**

Ten sighed, setting his phone back down and frowning hard at his essay. But he couldn’t focus, and when his phone chimed again to remind him of the texts two minutes later, he made a frustrated noise and slammed the lid of his laptop shut.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid,  _ he thought as he picked up his phone.  _ You don’t owe him anything. You can just say no. _

But he knew Kunhang was right. Taeyong was kind of clingy. If he said no now, he’d probably never get to fuck him again because it would hurt his feelings too much. He was already toeing the line by leaving in the morning before he woke up. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ten felt bad for sort of stringing him along, but—he never asked Taeyong to develop  _ feelings _ for him. If he did on his own, well… it wasn’t Ten’s fault, and it wasn’t his funeral. For now, he’d just avoid the topic of emotions altogether, and hope that Taeyong got the hint.

to: tyong 🍈

**sorry! My mom called this morning and <<**

**I didn’t want to wake you up. I was going**

**to text you in a little to let you know. I just**

**wanted to let you sleep**

**I haven’t eaten yet, so I can meet you <<**

**in just a minute**

from: tyong 🍈

**> > ok! ** ☺️ **see u soon!**

Ten sighed and pushed himself away from his desk, pocketing his phone and running a hand through his hair. He wrote “gone to breakfast with taeyong, sorry. Maybe u were right” on a sticky note, and stuck it to Kunhang’s desk, and then grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

Taeyong was already seated at a little table in the corner, and he waved brightly when he saw Ten.

“Good morning,” he chirped sweetly, and Ten almost felt truly terrible about what he was doing to him. Almost.

“Hey,” he replied, dropping his phone and keys on the table. “Let me go grab some food, I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”

“M’kay.”

Ten wandered the dining hall, picking up bits and pieces of breakfast, acutely aware that he’d never done something like this in his life. Granted, it was easier to blow someone off in high school, because he had a curfew, because he could make up family obligations, because it would be ridiculous to drive back over to someone’s house after he’d already left… but here, he only lived a couple floors away. It was too easy to fall into a routine of near-domesticity, and it felt dangerous.

He returned to Taeyong, offering him one of the mini muffins he’d picked up. “I realized too late it was blueberry, not chocolate chip,” he explained. 

Taeyong accepted it happily. “Is everything ok with your mom?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your mom, you said she called this morning?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ten panicked. “She, uh, just needed to check about a charge to our credit card. I forgot to tell her about a textbook.”

“Oh.” Taeyong nodded, and Ten breathed out a silent sigh of relief, digging into his food. “Next time,” Taeyong continued. “Next time, if you—if you need to leave, or something—“ He sucked in a breath. “It would be nice if you could let me know. That’s all.”

“…sorry,” Ten said softly, kind of actually meaning it. “I just… didn’t want to wake you. And the door locked behind me. I was lucky my keys were still in my pocket.”

“I know,” Taeyong said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know… that we barely know each other, I know this is new. I was just a little… worried, when I woke up. Alone.”

Ten didn’t know how to respond. “I’ll let you know, next time,” he ended up saying weakly. 

“Or you could always just stay.” Taeyong seemed pretty chipper about it, though, and moved on quickly. “Anyway. What are you doing today?”

“Probably homework,” Ten said. “Somehow I’ve got a million essays to do, and it’s only week three.”

“Do you want to do work with me? There’s this cute little coffeeshop in the town that I really want to try.” Taeyong looked at him, eyes big and hopeful. Ten couldn’t find it in himself to let him down again.

“Okay,” he agreed, and Taeyong smiled so big his eyes almost disappeared. Ten felt a weird little surge in his chest, like he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him. It was gone as quickly as it came, and it left Ten feeling empty in a way he couldn’t explain.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

It was getting harder and harder to avoid the labels conversation, the feelings conversation, with Taeyong. Ten always balked and quickly changed the subject when it sounded like Taeyong was winding himself up to the “what are we” question, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Taeyong got fed up with it and cornered him.

“He’s a Cancer,” Kun said dryly, not even looking up from his book when Ten had exhausted himself complaining one night. “It’s in his nature to be loving, to be sensitive and emotional.” Ten made a face. “What’s confusing is that  _ you’re  _ a Pisces.” Kun narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s your moon and rising?”

“I don’t fucking know my birth time,” Ten replied, a little scathing. “Much less my entire natal chart.”

“You’ve gotta have some Capricorn in there somewhere,” Kun said. “Or Aries. Or Scorpio. Would explain why you’re so fucking crazy.”

“ _ You’re  _ a Capricorn,” Ten pointed out. He didn’t know much about astrology, but he knew that.

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m the way I am.” Kun closed his book with a snap, but his expression was kind. “Listen, Ten. I mean, you’re not going to listen because you never do, but let’s pretend for a second. He wants something very different out of this than you do. And the longer you drag it out, the worse it’s going to be. It’s already been like a month, right? Next time he brings it up, you have to tell him so that he can make an informed decision. It’s only fair.”

“I know that!” Ten ran his hands through his hair. “I know, but I  _ can’t _ , Kun.”

“Okay, then maybe open yourself up to dating him. Would that be so bad?” 

“Um, yes?” Ten sighed. “I can’t date him because it would still be the same thing, me not giving him what he wants or needs. At least this way I’m not pretending that I care about him, when I don’t.”

“Ah, the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’.” Kun nodded. “I guess I’m just trying to ease my own conscience. I was the one that introduced you, after all.”

Ten patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We would’ve ended up here either way. You just sped things along.”

Kun tilted his head, resigned to his disbelief, slowly turning it back to the other side, almost like he was searching for where Ten’s audacity could have come from, before opening his book again. “Somehow, that’s not reassuring.”

Ten knew that Kun was right. He knew that anybody else would give him the exact same advice (the exact same lecture). And yeah, it was incredibly stressful for him—this was why he never dated people to begin with, because it was so time-consuming and so unnecessarily upsetting. The reason he was sticking around, besides the fact that it would be incredibly difficult to avoid Taeyong, and painfully awkward when they inevitably ran into each other, was that the sex was just that great. Ten was used to two kinds of guys—the first being the ones who pretended they were in control just because Ten was short and slim, and the second being pillow princesses who thought for some reason Ten would have fun fucking them and slapping them around while they lay there and did nothing at all. And both of those options were fine, but nothing special. Taeyong however… there was more to it. He gave himself over to Ten, certainly, but there was a give and take to it. He met him in the middle instead of trying to overextend Ten in either direction, and it was nice. 

And maybe that’s why Ten agreed to go study with him in that stupid cafe that first morning, and the time after that, and after that, too. It was a weird little cycle he got himself into—one day, he’d stay and let Taeyong cook him breakfast even though they had a perfectly good dining hall, and then they’d spend the day together. It would stress Ten out, and the next time he’d be cold and distant, and leave as soon as they were done fucking, only to feel guilty about it and stay for a movie and to cuddle the  _ next _ time in lieu of an explanation or an apology. 

Ten knew it was confusing the fuck out of Taeyong. He knew it made him feel like he was getting yanked in a thousand different directions, one right after another, but Ten was, it seemed, a coward, and could neither commit to one type of treatment nor let Taeyong go.

Even through all this distress, though, they still had a good time. Hooking up was Ten’s favorite coping mechanism; it hadn’t failed him before, and it wasn’t failing him now. When Taeyong was under him, near tears, Ten’s hand wrapped around his throat, a punishment for coming too soon, or being too handsy, or whatever silly little game they came up with that day, it was like the world didn’t exist outside of the room they were in, and nothing else mattered. Ten loved that, the way it took everything else off his mind, the way he could tell it did for Taeyong, too. Taeyong said, “Please, sir,” or, even better, “Make me,” and the rest of Ten’s brain turned off. It was a nice reprieve. 

But there was always the after, like now, lying in Taeyong’s bed, sun already climbing in the Saturday morning sky, a sort of expectant stillness in the room. And then—

“Ten.” Taeyong’s soft voice, full of question, full of want. “How long are we going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?” Ten decided to play dumb, though his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Fucking, and going on pseudo-dates, and having movie nights, before…” Taeyong trailed off.

“Before what? Before we label it? Why should we?” Ten turned his head to face Taeyong; he owed him that much. “We’re having fun, right?” Taeyong nodded slowly, biting his lip. “Why overcomplicate it, then, when we don’t have to?”

“I mean… okay,” Taeyong murmured, eyes flicking away to the wall. “I just…”

“Don’t worry so much,” Ten soothed, ever the hypocrite. “I’m still here, right?”

“Right.” Taeyong’s tone was almost sullen, and Ten, like always, switched gears.

“Wanna get sushi today?” he asked, making his tone light. “I have a coupon for that place in town.”

“Oh, amazing.” The moodiness was gone in an instant, though Ten knew Taeyong was just hiding it. “Can we get the deep-sea yellowtail sashimi? I know it’s expensive. I’ll suck your dick while you work or something.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ten said, laughing. “We don’t work like that. It’s not transactional. I won’t say no, though, if you want to.” He ignored the hopeful glint in Taeyong’s eye when he said “transactional”; he knew he was taking it to mean they had a chance at a real relationship, and he knew every day he was crushing that hope. He knew every day he was getting closer and closer to losing him, to losing this, the silly, easy banter, the frequent hookups.

The knowledge left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach and his shoulders, like a straitjacket. Ten wrote it off as disappointment that he’d have to go through the trouble of finding a new partner soon, but even he knew there was something more to it than that. He couldn’t name it, though, the strange unease—was it guilt? Shame? Whatever it was, it was new, it was bad, and he did not want it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! pls lmk what you think in comments, and ty to those who've left kudos n comments already as well. your support means the world T.T you can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about), where you can also find my buy me a coffee (only if you're willing n able, ofc!) please feel free to check out my other works--and keep an eye out, bc I'm working on another nct chaptered fic that I'm hoping to be posting the first chapter of by early August!


	5. five (taeyong)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! no specific warnings for this chapter other than slight references to sex (nothing rly explicit) and ofc The Big Sad lol

Taeyong loved the morning after now, loved when he woke up warm and safe, right next to Ten. He loved the weight of Ten’s arm around his waist, loved the faint smell of his shampoo, the slight tickle of his breath on the back of Taeyong’s neck.

This morning was no different, Taeyong blinking his eyes open, watching the dust float through rays of sunlight. He shifted a little, trying to shake life into his fingers, which were falling asleep from the way his arm was curled up against his body, and Ten made a soft noise in his sleep, pulling Taeyong closer so that the whole backside of his body was flush with Ten’s front. Taeyong smiled, letting his eyes flutter shut again.

Sure, Ten was a little cagey about their relationship, and sometimes he’d flake or go silent for a couple days, but he always came back, same as ever. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Taeyong’s part, but it had to mean something, right? And even if it didn’t, Taeyong wasn’t all too sure he cared. He had _this_ —and maybe Ten was right. Why overcomplicate things? Wasn’t this enough?

He felt lips against the top of his spine, and realized Ten was awake.

“Good morning,” he said softly, feeling Ten move around behind him, rolling over a little. Ten had propped himself up on an elbow, and was looking down at him with what Taeyong could only interpret as fondness. He giggled when he saw a few creases in Ten’s cheek from where the fabric of his pillowcase had pressed into his skin. He reached up, tracing the lines. “Sleep well?” 

Ten just laughed with him, though, gently pushing his hand away so that he could feel it for himself. “Yeah, I must have.” He dipped his head down and captured Taeyong’s lips, soft and light. Taeyong ran a hand through Ten’s hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Ten planted a hand next to Taeyong’s shoulder, hovering over Taeyong, surrounding him.

“The door’s locked, right?” he broke away to ask, casting a glance at the doorknob.

Taeyong tugged on his waist, his legs, forcing Ten to turn back to him so he could climb on top of him. “Yeah,” he answered. “And even if it’s not, Doyoung knows to knock.”

“Good.” Ten smiled, bending down to rest the full weight of his torso on Taeyong, giving just enough room to go back to kissing him. Taeyong wrapped both of his arms around Ten’s body, splaying his fingers across his back, trying to touch as much of him as he possibly could. He couldn’t help but think it felt so perfect, so right, Ten’s body slotted against his, heavy on his ribcage but not smothering, a welcome pressure, almost grounding.

One of Ten’s hands had found his cheek, his thumb stroking slow over the sharp point of his cheekbone. It was so sweet and intimate, and Taeyong whined softly against Ten’s lips without really meaning to. Ten smiled, circling his hips just once, almost like he wanted to see what would happen, as if he didn’t know Taeyong’s body inside and out by now. Taeyong gasped, feeling his cock twitch against the soft cotton of his pajama shorts. 

And Ten just drew back and laughed, bright and happy. “Hope you’re not too sore,” he murmured, pushing himself lower and hooking his fingers on Taeyong’s waistband. 

“’M not,” Taeyong insisted, even though he kind of was. He didn’t care though, liked how it hurt, liked how he’d be able to feel it tomorrow morning, too, even if he woke up alone.

Ten stretched back to grab the lube off Taeyong’s desk, where they’d discarded it the night before, and took his time working Taeyong open, even when he begged him to go faster. And though it was frustrating, surely, it was also nice—to know that Ten knew his limits without Taeyong telling him, and cared enough to stay within them.

Ten fucked him slow too; long, deep strokes that nearly brought Taeyong to tears, a mix of impatience and a simple reaction to how good it felt. Even his grip on Taeyong’s hip was loose, like Taeyong was fragile and precious, and it made Taeyong’s head swim, made him feel light and floaty. Ten whispered out praise and encouragement, and when Taeyong finally reached down to touch himself, Ten shook his head, moving his hand away to replace it with his own.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he said, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, and Taeyong moaned.

“Thank you, sir,” he slurred out, happy at the way it made Ten flush, happy at the quiet groan that forced its way out of Ten’s throat. 

And when they both came, that was quiet, too, Taeyong curling up, tense, shaking from the pleasure; Ten bent down so that their foreheads were touching. Taeyong watched him as best he could, eyes wide as Ten fucked him through the aftershocks, enamored by the creases that appeared in the corners of Ten’s eyes when he came.

Ten brushed some hair from Taeyong’s eyes, giving him a breathy laugh. “Let’s get some breakfast,” he said, hopping off the bed. Taeyong smiled.

Not all mornings were like this. Sometimes he’d wake up alone to a note or a text, and then not see Ten for a few days. It left him listless and wanting. Taeyong’s hope was a flower, blooming and wilting and blooming, again and again in his chest with the tide of Ten’s affections. It was kind of sad, almost pathetic, the way he knelt on the shore, head bowed, grateful for whatever Ten gave him, whenever he chose to give it, offering himself up as a sacrifice in return, every single time. And worst of all, Taeyong couldn’t regret it.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

“You’re biting your nails again,” Doyoung noted. Taeyong snatched his hand away from his mouth, flushing. “You’re gonna make yourself bleed if you keep that up.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong muttered, turning back to his computer.

“What’re you thinking about? It’s gotta be something.”

Taeyong shrugged.

“Is it Ten?” Doyoung raised his eyebrows, and something in his voice told Taeyong he already knew the answer to that question, so he stayed silent. “Taeyong. You can’t keep—what, biting your nails to death about it. You’re going to have to confront him eventually.”

“I’ve _tried!_ He shuts me down every time, or changes the subject, or tells me I shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Don’t let him!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“What’s your plan, then?” Doyoung challenged. He set his phone down in the bed beside him. “Just keep letting him avoid the subject, and continue to let both of you get consumed by your inability to say what you feel? Either he likes you or he doesn’t, but you can’t just keep living in this weird state of limbo.”

“I’m just—I’m afraid he’ll reject me if I push it,” Taeyong admitted.

“What, and so if you don’t push it you’ll just be together forever? If he rejects you, it’s not because of you. It would’ve happened eventually. Better to get it over with sooner, so you can work on moving on.”

“Why are you always right?” Taeyong asked, complaint entering his voice.

Doyoung just shrugged. “Guess I’m just way smarter than you.”

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Still, even with his mind at least somewhat made up, opportunities to make Ten talk about uncomfortable things were slim. It was like he could _tell_ when Taeyong was about to bring it up, and immediately launched them down a different avenue entirely at ninety miles an hour, before Taeyong could even think to stop him. Before Taeyong knew it, they were coming up on November, and on two months… _well. He couldn’t call it “together.”_ But he could hope, right? Even if they hadn’t done anything at the one-month mark, maybe now it would be more official.

A few days before their two-month “anniversary”, as it were, Taeyong received a text.

from: tennie 🎶

**> > Hi! Kunhang’s going to be gone all weekend**

**visiting his parents! You should stay over.**

to: tennie 🎶

**I’d love that** 🥺 **feel like I haven’t seen u lately <<**

from: tennie 🎶

**> > yeah, let me make it up to you. He leaves**

**Friday afternoon! Bring pjs and ur switch**

to: tennie 🎶

**ok will do! <<**

So maybe he _did_ remember, and maybe this weekend, they could talk about… about _them_ , and Taeyong could finally call Ten his boyfriend. It felt a little silly, to want it so much, but not knowing made him so anxious. _Maybe everything will work out after all._ And so, Taeyong found himself walking down the hall to Ten’s room with a little bag slung over his shoulder, corner of his Switch digging into his back.

“Hi.” Ten hopped off his bed and crossed the room to him when he entered.

“Good timing, huh?” Taeyong asked, slipping his shoes off and dropping his bag by the door.

“Hm?” Ten stopped a couple feet away, holding his hand out to Taeyong.

Taeyong took it, against his better judgement. “You know. It’s going to be two months this Sunday?”

“Oh, is it?” Ten sounded distracted, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Did you not—I thought that’s what this was about.” Taeyong faltered, unsure. 

“Oh. Um, no. I didn’t realize.” Ten looked lost for only a second, but then fixed him with a bright smile. “That’s okay, though, right? Who’s counting? I mean—we’re not, like, dating.”

“I… I guess not.” Taeyong trained his gaze on his feet, sucking his lower lip between his teeth.

“Did you think we were?” The question was so direct, and it was so cruel of Ten to ask him like he hadn’t been trying to hint at it for weeks.

“I mean, I don’t know. Kind of?” Taeyong looked at him, confused. “Like, we… we go to coffeeshops and meals together… we have movie nights, we—we fuck and we cuddle, and I cook for you…”

“That’s all nice, but—not explicitly dating, no?” Ten seemed ready to brush it all off, and Taeyong felt anxiety rise up in his stomach and chest, making his breathing come a little shorter. _Don’t let him do it._ “Anyway, I was thinking, this weekend—”

“Don’t you—” Taeyong interrupted, only for his voice to break. He cleared his throat, irritated at himself. “Don’t you like me?”

“What do you mean?” Ten gave him a puzzled smile. “That’s a silly question.” He drew him closer by his hand until they were nose to nose, and as Taeyong opened his mouth to reply, Ten pressed his lips to his. 

It took all Taeyong’s willpower not to give in to the kiss, because of course, _god_ , of course he wanted it. But not like this, whatever _this_ was—he couldn’t. He pushed against Ten’s shoulders, wrenching his head away and taking a couple steps back from the force of it. He searched Ten’s face, looking for surprise, looking for something to stop him, but all he found was resignation.

“Ten, I’m fucking serious,” he said. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t only have some of you, some of the time. I… I like you! I _like_ like you, and I mean it like that too, the giddy grade-school butterflies and candy hearts, all of it. And either you like me back and you’re just too scared to tell me, or you’re using me and you’re just a terrible person, but either way you’re a fucking coward!” Taeyong saw Ten flinch, and he was glad. “So this is your chance. I may be pretty pathetic as a person, but I’ll never beg for someone’s time or attention. You tell me right now, or you let me go.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Taeyong.” Ten sounded tired, and it made Taeyong furious. 

“I don’t _want_ you to say anything! I just want you to tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Ten looked him full in the face, and Taeyong had to give credit where credit was due. At least he had the balls to look him in the eyes. “The truth is, I meant to hook up with you once or twice, and it turned into this. I didn’t mean for it to. Every step of the way, you’ve surprised me, you’ve made all my plans go to shit. And somehow I ended up here. But I really only meant for it to go on for a week or two. So you’re right. I am a coward. I should have ended it a long time ago, because I don’t _like_ like you.” Ten said it like he was making fun of him, and Taeyong bristled. “You’re just... kind of cute. I wanted you, but that was all.”

“That’s bullshit,” Taeyong challenged softly. “You don’t mean that. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. If it was just for the sex, why would you spend so much time with me? You like me, Ten, you just don’t want to admit it because it doesn’t fit your—your aesthetic!”

“What aesthetic?” Ten asked, voice rising a little.

“‘Oh, I’m Ten, and I’m moody, and my favorite color is black, and one day I’ll buy you dinner and the next I’ll completely blow you off, and I’ll never apologize because I’m too focused on my fucking career and myself to bother being a good person,’” Taeyong mocked, voice getting louder and louder, too. “And the instant you might actually, god forbid, have feelings for somebody else, you lash out at them or put up a fucking wall. And that’s perfect for you, because you like your dark and mysterious image, and you like it when people chase you down.”

“And if I do? Is that such a bad thing? I never _once_ asked you for any of this.” Ten gestured to the space between them. “I never asked you to want me, I never asked you to like me so goddamn much. And yeah, I like that you made it so obvious that you wanted to fuck me. Is that crime? I’m allowed to be confident, right? It’s not my fault you expected this to actually go somewhere. I don’t know why you think you’re so special.”

Taeyong felt tears prick behind his eyes, because it was exactly what he’d been afraid of. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had kind of pushed Ten to say all of this—but if it wasn’t at least a little true, Ten wouldn’t have thought to say it, right? “You’re being mean,” he whispered.

“Am I? Is it mean if it’s true? Because you’ve got this idea in your head that you’re going to be someone to me, but you were just convenient, Taeyong!” Ten was shouting now. “You don’t—you don’t mean anything to me besides a good fuck! I don’t need you and I don’t like you! Are you fucking happy now? Got what you wanted out of this? God!” He glared at Taeyong, as if Taeyong wasn’t the one that should be absolutely livid. “This weekend was supposed to be so much fun. And now you’ve gone and ruined it.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Taeyong shook his head, almost laughing, shoving his feet back in his shoes, checking his pockets for his keys and grabbing his bag. “ _I_ ruined it? Take a long look in the mirror. If you’re gonna keep living the rest of your life like this, good fucking luck. I hope nobody else has to deal with you. I wouldn’t wish this shit on anybody.”

“I could replace you _tonight_ ,” Ten said venomously as Taeyong put his hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah? You know what’s really funny about all of this, Ten?” Taeyong turned back around. “I would’ve given you everything. I really would’ve. I could’ve—” _I could have_ loved _you. I could have loved you if you let me._ But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He swallowed hard, and said instead, “Replace me, then. I hope you wake up and go to sleep cold and empty, no matter whose bed you’re in, until you die.” Satisfied with his retort, he yanked the door open and strode through, letting it slam shut behind him.

Taeyong was kind of proud—he didn’t cry until his own door was shut and he was sure his room was empty. He kicked off his shoes, dropping his things on his desk and crawled into bed. There, curled up under his blankets, he sobbed. _You had to do it,_ he tried to tell himself, to soothe the horrible feeling of loss, but it didn’t help. Maybe Ten was right, maybe he was stupid for catching feelings, maybe he just read into everything Ten said and did because he was a hopeless romantic. Maybe this was his wakeup call to the real world—maybe falling in love didn’t happen, at least not at their age. Maybe he should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he’d stopped crying a while ago, going still with his shock and his grief. The sun had been setting when he first entered the room, and it was now dark. He was too tired to even sit up and turn on a light. 

He flinched when the door opened and light from the hall streamed in, hitting the wall in front of his face. 

“Yong?” It was Doyoung. He flicked on the light, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “I thought you were spending the night at Ten’s.”

Taeyong sniffled, feeling small. “I did it, Doyoung.” He was surprised to find himself hoarse. “I asked him if he even cared about me, gave him an ultimatum, and he—he threw me away.”

“Oh.” Doyoung was at his side in an instant, one hand on his shoulder, a small comfort. “I’m sorry, Taeyong.”

Taeyong shook his head, rolling over to face him. “I’m so stupid,” he whispered. “I should’ve never—I should’ve known.”

“You couldn’t have known.” It was the gentlest Taeyong had ever heard Doyoung’s voice. “He was acting like you were dating.”

“He told me I didn’t mean anything to him,” Taeyong said. “He said I was convenient, that he didn’t like me, never liked me.”

“He’s an idiot,” Doyoung insisted. “An emotionally constipated idiot.”

Despite it all, Taeyong couldn’t help but giggle at the term _emotionally constipated_. “Yeah, I guess,” he conceded, pushing himself up so he was seated, legs dangling off the edge of his bed. “I just feel like… like a fool, I don’t know. I can’t believe I let him… let him do that to me.”

“I’m not sure he meant to,” Doyoung pointed out. “Either he is just a shitty fuckboy, moving from person to person because it’s fun and it’s easy, or there’s something else going on with him entirely.”

“What do you mean? What, you think he just doesn’t know how to express his feelings?” Taeyong snorted. It wouldn’t be unfathomable. 

“I think he’s really, really sad,” Doyoung said simply, and Taeyong blinked, surprised. “And that—I mean, that doesn’t excuse his behavior, I’m just saying… I think it’s not even that he doesn’t know how to _express_ his feelings, I think he straight up doesn’t know how to _feel_ his feelings.” He shrugged. “And that’s completely on him. I mean, either way. It doesn’t reflect on you.”

“I know.” Taeyong scooted back a little, hugging his knees to his chest. “I just wish I believed it.”

“It’ll be okay,” Doyoung said.

“How?” Taeyong gave him a doleful look. “I really liked him, Doie.”

“I know.”

Taeyong sucked in a shaky breath, feeling tears well up all over again. “I—I think about him all the time. How am I supposed to—to just carve him out of my head? How will there be room for someone else?”

“You will, eventually.” Doyoung reached around and offered him a tissue, casting his gaze to the side. Taeyong was grateful, appreciated that he wasn’t being studied. 

“It’s stupid,” he repeated, swiping tears away. “I only really met him a couple months ago. But I don’t… I mean, I know technically we met a couple summers ago, but that wasn’t…” He shook his head. How was he supposed to explain that kissing Ten felt like coming home, somehow, without sounding crazy? He drew in another breath, trying to get the tears under control. “What do I do?”

Doyoung shrugged. “Delete his number? Spend your evenings actually studying for once?” Taeyong gave a watery laugh. “It’s up to you. You’ll get over it. Sucks to hear, I know. But you just need time.”

Taeyong pursed his lips, letting out a huff of breath. “That’s stupid. I wanna be okay _now_.”

Doyoung grinned at him. “Doesn’t work like that. Now are you gonna sit there like a sad sack of shit, or are you gonna grab your Switch and come to Johnny, Mark, and Donghyuck’s for Smash Bros?”

“What about studying?” But Taeyong was already on his feet, unplugging the Switch from its charger. 

“Fuck studying, you can study tomorrow. C’mon. I want to see you kick Johnny’s ass.”

  
Taeyong’s chest felt so fucking heavy, but the laughter came easily all the same. _Maybe Doyoung’s right. Maybe it’s just a matter of time._ He tried to convince himself it was true, but when he searched his mind for even a small drop relief at having ended things with Ten, he came up empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! also thank u to those of u who've shown this story love so far! I rly appreciate u ;-; you can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about), where youll also find a link to my buy me a coffee
> 
> the upcoming nct chaptered fic has turned into a series collaboration with my dear friend and beta reader [@perfeggso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfeggso), so in the meantime please head over and take a peek at her work as well! currently she's working on a yuta/taeyong fic (which i beta-read ^^) and it's amazing! she has some other fics, too. 
> 
> that's all from me for now! keep your eyes peeled come early august~


	6. six (ten)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um possible trigger warning for depressive episode? it's not super heavy tho :)

Ten hated to admit it, but the fact was, he felt like shit. He wasn’t quite sure how to place the feeling beyond that; just some weird weight in his ribcage that made it hard for him to breathe. 

Maybe it  _ was  _ just guilt—he knew it was his fault, deep down, that it had gotten this way. Sure, it would have been easy enough for Taeyong to just not develop feelings—it was fair to say, considering Ten had been doing it his whole life, right?—but Ten knew it was happening, could’ve nipped it in the bud before it blew up the way it had. And so he shied away from group activities. There was a part of him that mocked him for it.  _ It’s not like you broke up. You were never together to begin with. If he wants to be hurt, then he can hurt. That shouldn’t stop you from going and having fun. You’re in college, you shouldn’t spend it sulking in your room like a loser. _

But the problem was, as much as he wished it wasn’t true, Taeyong wasn’t the only one hurting. Ten couldn’t stop but think about what he’d said— _ too focused on your fucking career and yourself to bother being a good person… I hope you wake up and go to sleep cold and empty, no matter whose bed you’re in, until you die— _ and even though that same part of himself insisted that Taeyong was just being overdramatic because he was mad, Ten couldn’t banish the thought that there was at least some small modicum of truth to it. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit self-destructive?” This came from Sicheng, mild-mannered as always. 

Ten looked up from his notes. “What?”

“I can practically feel your angst radiating off of you from here,” he said, giving Ten a rather severe look. 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on.” Sicheng said. “You and Taeyong had a big fight.”

“Does everybody know about my personal life?” Ten asked, exasperated.

“I mean, it’s kind of obvious.” He said it matter-of-factly. “You never come to parties anymore, and it’s because you’re afraid he’s gonna be there.”

“I’m not afraid,” Ten defended. “I just don’t want to put him in an awkward spot, not to mention all the rest of you. I don’t want to—what, make you pick sides?”

“If we were interested in picking sides, none of us would be talking to you anymore, I hope you know that,” Sicheng informed him dryly, and Ten tried not to cringe, knowing full well he was probably right, and moreover, that it would be fair.

“Okay, sure,” he said, trying to brush past that, “but I just don’t want it to be weird. Because—he’s going to all those parties still, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s only because Doyoung asks Kun to ask Kunhang if you’re going first.” Sicheng shrugged. “You always say no, so Doyoung drags him along.”

“I can’t believe Kun would betray me like this,” Ten said, trying to make light of it. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“I stand by what I said about self-destructive,” Sicheng said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, Taeyong won’t give us all the details, but some of the things you said to him? It was like you were trying to cremate and bury your relationship, not just end it like a normal person.”

“We weren’t in a—”

“Shut up,” Sicheng said. “You were, at least kind of. That’s not my point here.”

Properly chastised, Ten ducked his head. “I know.”

“I’m not the only one who thinks so. I mean.” Sicheng’s voice grew soft, mellow. “It’s like almost the whole reason none of us have turned our backs on you—like, are you okay?”

Ten wished he could punch himself in the face. Here he was,  _ wallowing _ , letting this get the better of him to the point that everyone was noticing. It was strange, but he’d almost rather they think of him as a coldhearted asshole than some pitiful thing needing their help. 

He frowned at Sicheng, smoothing his features over. “Yeah, I’m fine. What do you mean?”

“There you go again, you and your walls.” The comment was offhand, but it stung, because it was exactly as Taeyong said.  _ And the instant you might actually, god forbid, have feelings for somebody else, you lash out at them or put up a fucking wall. _

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sicheng just shook his head, yawning, and checked his phone. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me. If you ever wanna talk, let me know, but for now, it’s getting kinda late. I’m gonna head back, maybe grab a bite before the dining halls close. Wanna come?”

Ten shook his head. “I’m gonna stay and practice a little more. We have the room until eight, anyway.”

“Suit yourself.” Sicheng slung his coat over his shoulders, packing up his things, making for the door. “I hope you really are okay, Ten,” he said, and Ten hated the way his voice took on a sympathetic tone. “And if you’re not, I hope you figure it out. Get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. You too.” The door shut softly behind him, and Ten found himself alone in the large practice room. He flicked his head to the side, meeting his own gaze in the mirror. It wasn’t hard to see what Sicheng meant—his shoulders were a little hunched; his skin was dull, and he actually had real dark circles he could trace with his fingertips. He looked just short of miserable. 

_ Am I okay? _ He glared at himself. Of course he was okay, the fuck kind of question was that? He felt kind of guilty—so what? Why did Taeyong’s opinion matter so much to him? Why did he have to feel so hunted by Taeyong’s words? Never once had he stopped to consider if he was a good person, and even if he wasn’t, why should it matter? You didn’t get anywhere by being  _ good _ . This— _ fight _ , it changed nothing. It wouldn’t serve him to start worrying about it now.

Ten rolled his shoulders back a couple times, stretching, and pushed himself up onto his feet to start the music so he could actually get some practice in. But every time he tried to focus, his mind only drifted back to Taeyong, and he lost his place in the choreography. Eventually, he resigned himself to looking over his notes again, still determined to make some progress before he threw in the towel for the night.

Clearly, he fell asleep, bent over his papers on the couch, head pillowed on his arm, because the next thing he knew, Taeyong of all people was standing a few steps into the room. 

“Shit, sorry—I didn’t know you were here.” He was looking at the ground in between them. “I, uh, didn’t think anybody’d be here. I booked it from eight to ten, and it’s eight-fifteen.”

“Right,” Ten said, trying and failing to seem like he hadn’t just been passed the fuck out, folded in half over his numb legs. “One sec.” He scooped up the papers, shoving them haphazardly into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and fetching his phone from the aux cord. As he passed him, Taeyong raised his head like he was going to say something, but Ten breezed on by, and Taeyong stayed silent as the door snapped shut.

Ten let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and hurried down the hall, out the doors of the building and into the cold night air.  _ Why did it have to be him? Why that room? Why tonight, when I happened to fall asleep as I was working? _ He rarely found himself truly embarrassed, but this was certainly one of those moments. 

He was still stewing about it when he got back to his room and Kunhang looked up in surprise when he burst in. 

“Jesus, you look spooked,” he said, searching Ten’s face.

Ten opened his mouth to explain what had just happened, but then he remembered the despicable concern in Sicheng’s eyes, how he’d asked if he was _ okay _ , so he opted to shake his head instead. “Just a little tired,” he said, dropping his backpack and flopping onto his bed.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

_ College sucks, _ Ten thought to himself, turning his head to the side in hopes that Taeyong wouldn’t recognize or notice him when he passed on the way to an empty table in the dining hall.  _ Everyone is always everywhere. There’s no privacy.  _ He plopped down into his seat, somewhat sullen, sulking over his food.

He spent a lot of his time alone now. It was weird—normally, the people he hooked up with weren’t in his friend group, so there were never consequences for whatever happened in the fallout of his escapades, if there were any at all. And though Sicheng had said none of them were trying to pick sides, he knew it was hard for them. He’d said some pretty cruel things— _ true _ things, he insisted to himself—but cruel all the same. 

The other thing was, every time he did end up talking to someone, he always walked away feeling uneasy. He couldn’t get some of the things they said to him out of his head—like Sicheng’s observation about how he went a bit too far in ending things with Taeyong,  _ like you were trying to cremate and bury your relationship.  _ Like he was trying to make sure Taeyong wouldn’t want to try and get close to him ever again.  _ I mean, he clearly needed it spelled out for him, right? How else was I supposed to say it? _

Ten sat at his table even after he’d finished eating, staring at the grain of the wood, his thoughts too loud for him to get up and do anything. His alarm for his laundry went off but he just put his ringer on silent without taking his eyes off the table. 

Eventually, though, the dining hall was closing and Ten had no choice but to force himself to stand and head down the hall to the laundry room. To his surprise, his clothes were already piled neatly on top of the dryer, and there was someone crouched in front of the open door. A little confused, Ten moved forward to grab his things, trying not to spook whoever it was.

Taeyong raised his head, eyes wide, and Ten froze, one hand on his laundry, still warm. 

“Sorry.” Taeyong lifted his phone up, and Ten saw their text conversation open on the screen. “I knew it was yours. I was gonna text you. To let you know. It’s the only free dryer.”

“Right.” Ten nodded, scooping up his clothes as best he could and escaping quickly, trying not to run out of the room. He felt something strange in his throat, and for a second he thought he was going to throw up, but then he realized he was just about to cry.

Maybe it was the fact that Taeyong had recognized his clothes, or maybe the smell of his detergent, and had thought to text him to let him know he was taking his shit out of the dryer. Even after everything,  _ Even after you basically told him you wanted nothing to do with him,  _ the terrible, mean voice in his head said.  _ Can’t he take a hint?  _ Ten pushed this thought aside impatiently. He was starting to like this voice less and less, even though he’d always considered it the part of him that kept him safe. 

Regardless of whether Taeyong’s thoughtfulness had gotten to him, he knew it was definitely at least what he had seen on Taeyong’s phone—the text conversation had been blank, meaning Taeyong had deleted the whole thread, and his contact name was just “Ten”, not “tennie 🎶” anymore.

It shouldn’t have hurt the way it did.  _ Why shouldn’t Taeyong have deleted the thread and changed his name? Actually, why hadn’t Taeyong just erased his contact altogether? _ Ten threw his clothes onto his bed and pulled out his own phone, scrolling to Taeyong’s contact information. He hadn’t deleted their conversation, hadn’t changed a thing. It hadn’t really crossed his mind. Now, though… his finger hovered over the “delete contact” button. But his eyes flicked back to the silly little watermelon emoji Taeyong had put next to his name that very first day, and Ten sighed, clicking his phone off and going to fold his laundry.

They kept running into each other after that—waiting for the same professor’s office hours, in line for coffee at the cafe, in passing between classes, doing that weird little dance you do when you almost bump into someone and you both try to dip to the same side, and then the other—and it was exhausting. 

Ten tried to forget about him as much as he could. He went to a few game nights and parties when he knew Taeyong wouldn’t be there, carefully avoiding any conversation that had to do with his mental state. He pursued a couple of other guys, too, just random one-night stands, upperclassmen or from different schools, and it was almost like his life was back to normal.

Except, at night when he slunk back to his room after his exploits, he had a hard time falling asleep. It was like Taeyong’s words had been a curse—they always floated back into his head, mocking him, when he was trying to drift off. There was a new hollowness, some hole in his heart. Or maybe it wasn’t new; maybe it had been there all along and he’d just been really good at ignoring it. 

_ Am I okay?  _ He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if it was even fair of him to wonder. He didn’t need to be okay, or maybe didn’t deserve it. He’d always blamed the trail of broken hearts he’d left in his wake on all the other people, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he was the problem. 

And the worst part was, Taeyong was always cordial to him when they saw each other in the wild. Once, late at night in the library, when Ten hadn’t been looking where he was going on his way out the door, he’d come over to help him pick up all the things he’d dropped. Another time, Ten had been out in the town and had stopped to adjust his hair, using the window of a store as a mirror, only to realize afterwards that Taeyong was standing right on the other side of that window, poking through some racks of clothing. Their eyes met, and Taeyong gave him this weird, sad little half-smile. 

These constant run-ins keep Taeyong in Ten’s thoughts constantly. In his weaker moments, he would even go so far as to say that he  _ missed _ him, missed the way he giggled when he didn’t know how to respond to something, missed his cooking, missed the way he’d let Ten win when he got tired when they were playing games. 

At least winter break was coming. Perhaps some distance would cure Ten of his longing. He repeated this to himself as he slogged through his finals—that it was just because he was seeing him all the time that he couldn’t fully let him go. Once he went home and had a chance to decompress, he’d be good as new, and ready to take on the second semester. 

But when he closed his eyes, it was Taeyong’s big, pretty eyes, his delicate fingers, the sweet curl of his lips and the flash of his perfect teeth when he laughed. It was the way his knuckles went so white when he clutched fistfuls of his sheets, the way his face glowed after he came, the way he’d called Ten  _ sir—  _ once he started thinking, he couldn’t stop. He hated Taeyong for it, but mostly he just hated himself for being so weak. 

“You should get some sleep.” Ten had never heard that level of concern in Kun’s voice before. “You look like a ghost.”

“I need to study,” Ten said. “I’ll sleep after finals are done. Or I’ll die before they end, and I can sleep then.”

“Very funny,” Kun said. “No, seriously. Are you okay?” That same, stupid question again. “You’re like, a shell of your usual self.”

“I’m just stressed,” Ten assured him, giving him a look to discourage him from bringing up the whole Taeyong situation.

Luckily, it got his point across because Kun just pressed his lips together, nodding, and went back to whatever music theory exercises he’d been working through. Ten chewed on the insides of his cheeks until he bled, but it did nothing to distract him from the feeling of dread that was creeping over him these days. It drew up around him, swaddling him like a blanket, making the world feel muted and distant. 

When he looked in the mirror, he had to agree with Kun. His eyes were blank, cheekbones hollow, body drowning in his oversized t-shirts and sweats. He looked like a ghost. Sometimes, he felt like one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u as always for reading, and to those of u who've left comments n kudos ily!!!!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about) (where you can also find my buy me a coffee uwu)
> 
> new nct work out THIS COMING TUESDAY! if you want a preview you can go take a look at my new series--it doesn't have any works under it yet but the tags should give you a good idea ^^ see you then~


	7. seven (taeyong)

Taeyong collapsed onto his bed at home, hair wet from his shower, grateful for the peace and quiet. His mom and his sister were busy cooking downstairs—he’d offered to help, but they insisted he rest. It wasn’t like he’d traveled very far—it was just a three hour train ride from the station near his university to their town. He had a feeling they just wanted to baby him a little, because it had been so long since he’d been home.

from: doie 🐇

**> > finally home!**

to: doie 🐇

**oh good! I just finished showering <<**

**lol don’t miss the dorm showers one bit**

**has woo texted you yet? <<**

Doyoung and Jungwoo had finally gotten their act together and made it official in the last few weeks of the semester. Jungwoo was affectionate by nature, though, and he often paid a lot more attention to everyone else than he did to Doyoung. Doyoung had finally confronted him about it, and they’d talked about it a little, but it definitely wasn’t resolved. While for Taeyong, winter break was a great chance to gather himself, for Doyoung and Jungwoo, it was really bad timing.

from: doie 🐇

**> > no, not yet. he knows im still mad**

**> > my family’s being so weird tho**

**> > my brother’s definitely going to ask me**

**a million questions once our parents are**

**gone which will be fun**

**> > and by fun I mean painful**

to: doie 🐇

**mine’s being weird too! they wouldn’t <<**

**let me help them cook or anything**

from: doie 🐇

**> > you gonna tell them about any of it?**

Taeyong chewed his lip. Doyoung meant everything that had happened with Ten. He supposed he could—it’s not like they didn’t know he was gay or anything, but what would come of it? His mom would worry, and his sister, Soyong, would probably find Ten somehow and threaten him, and his dad would find a way to lecture him about it. Why bother? It wasn’t like they could do anything helpful, anyway. Still, maybe it would be nice to talk to somebody. If he could get Soyong to promise she wouldn’t get mad, maybe…

to: doie 🐇

**no, probably not <<**

**well, maybe my sister <<**

from: doie 🐇

**> > okay.**

**> > are you gonna be alright?**

to: doie 🐇

**yeah <<**

from: doie 🐇

**> > okay**

**> > oop gtg my mom wants to fuss**

**over me now**

Taeyong smiled faintly, setting his phone aside. He _was_ gonna be alright. 

“Taeyong!” It was his mother. “Are you done? Come eat!”

“Coming!” he called back, hurrying down the hall to the kitchen.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Winter break passed slowly and quickly all at once. Taeyong spent most of it sleeping, or eating, or playing games. The first week, he barely saw his family for how much he slept, making up for the all-nighters he pulled during finals week. Finally, though, his sister cornered him, sat him down, and began an interrogation. 

“So you made friends,” she said. “And there was that guy, you texted about him, like, once. What was his name? It was a number, right?”

“Ten,” Taeyong said patiently, playing with the hem of his shirt. “His name’s Ten.”

“What happened with him?”

“We didn’t work out.” Taeyong gave her a look. “I’m fine, first of all, so don’t worry about me—I’ll tell you all about it, but only if you agree not to lose your shit, ‘kay?”

Soyong narrowed her eyes. “And why would I lose my shit?”

“He… he ended it, and he did it poorly. It’s not that I don’t blame him, it’s just that—I don’t know. Maybe I still care about him—well, no, I definitely still care about him. I can’t find it in me to be mad, because… I’ll explain it.” Taeyong waved his hands in front of his face, realizing he wasn’t making any sense. “My point is, I’m not hurt from it, so you don’t need to be hurt on my behalf.”

“Okay.” Soyong folded her hands, curiosity clearly overtaking her protective streak, at least for the moment. “I’m listening.”

“Okay. He and I were hooking up for just about two months, right?” Taeyong began. It wasn’t necessarily painful to recall, just a bit nostalgic. “It was silly—I ran away from him after we kissed for the first time like an idiot, but he was patient, waited until I was ready. So we hooked up for a while, and I kept being like, you know, are we actually going to take this somewhere? And he just kept avoiding the conversation. And it kind of exploded into this big fight, and I might have told him I hoped he never gets to feel loved, basically, and he said I never meant anything to him—it was really messy.”

“I’m sure he deserved it,” Soyong interjected. “But go on.”

“Well, I thought that at the time. This was back in November. But now… I don’t know. My roommate, Doyoung, the night it happened, he brought up a really good point. I asked if maybe Ten just didn’t know how to express his feelings, and Doyoung said he wasn’t sure he even knew how to feel them. He said he thought he was really sad, and it got me thinking.” Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words to explain. “It would be so easy for me to just be like, ‘okay, he’s an asshole and I hate him,’ and just move on. But… he stopped coming to parties and game nights, and he withdrew from our friends—whenever I saw him, he looked kind of out of it, not like his normal self, I don’t know. If he _was_ an asshole, he would’ve just kept going like nothing had happened.

“But I think Doyoung’s right, I think he got scared, I think he didn’t know what to do with me or himself. And, like Doyoung said, it doesn’t make it okay, but I can’t really hold it against him so much. Sure, it hurt at the time, but I know it wasn’t ever really because of me. I know it hurt him just as much. I’m just hoping maybe he’ll figure that out, and work up the nerve to tell me so himself.”

Soyong was frowning, but it wasn’t angry, just thoughtful. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then… that’s too bad, I guess. He’s not my problem if he doesn’t want to be—like, I’m okay. I’m gonna move on. I just hope… I hope he ends up all right, because right now I think he’s not doing great.” Taeyong shrugged. “At least, that’s what I’ve gathered.”

Soyong was silent for a moment, and then she drew a breath. “You know,” she said. “It’s not your job to fix him.”

Taeyong blinked. “I’m not trying to fix him,” he replied. “I just want to take care of him.”

“That’s basically the same thing.” She smiled at him, though. “You want to save him.”

“Okay, maybe a little. I just—there were moments, you know, where he was so sweet. And…” Taeyong gave her a sad look. “Noona, you’ve never seen him smile. It’s silly, but I just… I want to be the reason for his smile. Sometimes, at least.”

“I can’t stop you.” Soyong sounded resigned, but amused. “Just promise me one thing, okay? If he crashes and burns—just, like, put on your own oxygen mask first, you know?”

“I know.” Taeyong smiled warmly at her. “I’m okay, really. I just can’t let him go.”

“Well.” She nodded, standing. “If you can’t let him go, then go get him. Hm?”

“I’m definitely going to try.” He let her kiss the top of his head, even though it made him feel like a little kid. 

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Too soon, Taeyong was cramming snacks into his suitcases along with freshly clean laundry. His train was coming in about an hour, and then he’d be back on campus, and he and Doyoung, his somewhat-reluctant accomplice, would begin what Taeyong fondly referred to in his head as Operation Save Ten From Himself.

As impossible as it had seemed, he managed to fit everything into his bags on time, and before he knew it, he was getting whisked away, the train station quickly disappearing from view. He dozed a little, keeping a weather eye on his belongings, enjoying the scenery as they got further from the city. 

Their campus was covered in a blanket of snow, sparkling in the weak light of winter. Taeyong had to concentrate really hard as he walked up to his dorm, trying not to wipe out on the cement. But luck was on his side, and soon he was safely inside, kicking snow from the tips of his shoes.

Doyoung was already in their room, freshly showered, and he offered Taeyong a bright smile when he entered, laughing as Taeyong shivered audibly. 

“Yeah, I forgot how shitty the heating is, too,” he said. “Glad you made it in okay.”

“You, too,.” Taeyong said, opening his suitcase and retrieving a little gift bag. “My mom put this together for you,” he explained, handing it to him. “Repayment for maintaining my mental health last semester.”

“That’s sweet of her,” Doyoung said, laughing and accepting it. “You were right, by the way,” he added. “Those three clowns want to host a party tonight.”

“I’m assuming you mean Johnny, Mark, and Donghyuck,” Taeyong said, giggling. “Well, good.”

“I know Jungwoo’s going to be there,” Doyoung continued, waving his phone to indicate where he’d gotten the intel. “Jaehyun said he’d bring him or die trying. And he knows I’ll make sure the die trying part is true if he fails, so that’s a given. I told Kunhang to make sure Ten gets there, any way he can. He asked, ‘Can I hurt his feelings?’ and I said, ‘I hope you do,’ so I’m guessing that’ll happen, too.”

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re this vengeful,” Taeyong said. “Like, at least I make sense. Ten was _mean_ to me. Jungwoo’s just been distant.”

“ _And_ handsy with Yukhei before break!” Doyoung pointed out, nostrils flaring a little. “Besides, one or two nights of this will set him straight, no problem. You’ve got your work cut out for you, with Ten.”

“I don’t mind,” Taeyong said, unable to keep the sweetness from flooding his tone. “If it’s for him.”

“Don’t ‘not to me, not if it’s you’ about this,” Doyoung said sardonically. “You’re not a character in a Greek tragedy, you’re a useless gay underclassman in college.”

“What, and you’re a _useful_ gay?” Taeyong asked.

“More than you, anyway.” Doyoung flicked him on the bicep, but it was gentle. “The good part about this little scheme of ours is that we’re comfortable around each other, so acting cuddly and cozy won’t be a problem. The bad part is, if either Woo or Ten pulls one of us away, the other person is kind of just left hanging.”

“I’ll be satisfied in knowing I tried,” Taeyong said. “And I think just knowing you plotted to make him jealous will be enough to put Jungwoo in his place. I don’t think that’ll happen, though. You said it yourself—Woo will probably spend the night pouting in the corner, and Ten’ll probably find somebody to do it back at me. But once he sees that isn’t working, I think he’ll come around.”

“If you say so,” Doyoung said. “Now go shower, so we can pick out what we want to wear.”

A short fifteen minutes later found Taeyong half-dressed and subject to Doyoung’s makeup skills. It wasn’t that Taeyong hadn’t worn makeup before, but Doyoung was, like with almost every other aspect of his life, aggressive in his application. 

“You’re gonna poke my eye out,” he grumbled at him.

“I won’t if you just sit still,” Doyoung retorted.

After ample bickering and a little bit of panic from the both of them, they were finally dressed to their own (and each other’s) satisfaction. Taeyong wore simple black skinny jeans, a strikingly red long-sleeve, and a somewhat-deconstructed jean jacket on top. Doyoung had draped necklace after necklace on him, insisting it was pretty. Now, regarding himself in their full-length mirror, Taeyong had to agree. If he didn’t, at the very least, piss Ten off with this, he’d be very surprised. He brushed his fingers through his hair, rearranging his bangs.

“Ready?”

Taeyong blew out a breath, nodding. “I guess.”

“For once, we’re going to be one of the first ones there,” Doyoung said, rolling his eyes and flicking the light off. “So let’s go.”

Mark greeted them warmly at the door with hugs for each, beckoning them inside. Johnny waved from where he was setting up drinks, and Donghyuck flipped them off good-naturedly, seated on the floor directly in front of their TV. 

Kun was already there, perched on the futon, his roommates, Yangyang and Dejun, already up to something in the corner. He gave a slightly tired smile as a greeting. “Don’t worry,” he said when Taeyong and Doyoung drew near. “Both of your boys will be in attendance.”

“Kun, I don’t think you’re aware of your service to this country,” Doyoung said, taking a seat and tugging Taeyong down with him.

“No, trust me, I know. I can feel the weight of it in my soul,” Kun replied, nodding gratefully at Johnny when he placed a solo cup in his hand. “What is this?”

“My take on a tequila sunrise?” Johnny said. “It’s a tequila sunrise, but I added mango lemonade, and mango vodka.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Taeyong noted, accepting the cup that Johnny was holding out to him. “I love it.”

“Take it easy,” Doyoung said quietly. 

“Okay, _mom_ ,” Taeyong shot back, taking a big gulp just to spite him. “I won’t have any more than this.”

“I won’t let you,” Doyoung threatened, wrapping an arm around him and hugging him to his side to prove his point. Kun just snorted at them, shaking his head and standing. 

Taeyong tried to get lost in the conversation, tried to stop himself from checking the door over his shoulder every time it opened. Soon, it was crowded and noisy. Even Jaehyun and Jungwoo were there, the latter sulking by the window, watching him and Doyoung out of the corner of his eye. But no Ten.

“You said he’d be here,” Taeyong hissed to Doyoung, passing it off as pushing his nose into his neck.

“Would you relax?” Doyoung whispered back, keeping his face placid. “It’s not like you’ve never been late to a party before.”

“Noted,” Taeyong acquiesced, taking another long pull from his drink. 

The minutes dragged on, Johnny’s playlist blaring in Taeyong’s ears. Mark snuck Taeyong another drink without Doyoung noticing, and Taeyong made a mental note to himself to treat him to a meal or something later on. The alcohol was calming his nerves, at least, and distracting him enough that he could just sit back and stare at the ceiling.

The door opened again, and he heard Yangyang shout, “Kunhang!” loudly, even over all the music. Taeyong stopped himself from immediately snapping his head around to see, opting instead to lean into Doyoung, shifting so he could watch through his lashes. It took a couple seconds for him to come into view, but then Ten trailed right in after Kunhang. He smiled graciously at their hosts, indulging Mark in a hug and not even batting an eye when Donghyuck punched his arm.

Taeyong moved his eyes to his lap before he could get caught staring, but it was so difficult, because Ten was so _beautiful_. He was in a loose-fitting black and white marble patterned button-down and black skinny jeans. Taeyong couldn’t help admiring the way the fabric of the shirt clung to his chest. His fingers twitched, remembering the feel of Ten’s skin beneath them, and he curled his hands into fists to school himself. 

He felt breath against his ear—Doyoung. “He’s staring,” he said, “if that makes you feel any better. Will you lay off the alcohol now? You want to be coherent, right?”

“It’s still my first cup, what are you talking about?” Taeyong didn’t move, couldn’t, not when he knew Ten was watching. 

“Bullshit, I know Mark got you another.” Doyoung patted his thigh. “Give it, I’ll feed it to Yukhei.” Taeyong sighed, handing the cup over. “Thank you,” Doyoung said, carefully snatching it away before he could change his mind, giving his thigh a squeeze, and then leaning back, calling for Yukhei.

Taeyong chanced a look up, and saw Ten stalking toward the drinks, jaw clenched. He suppressed a smile. 

The next hour or so went on like this, each of them updating the other as things happened. Though Jungwoo did exactly as Doyoung had predicted, only peeling himself off the wall to get more to drink, or a snack, Ten wasn’t following the script. In fact, he wasn’t doing anything at all—just sitting in the back, only piping up to trash talk Donghyuck, who kept dying in the shooter game he was playing on the TV. 

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” Taeyong murmured to Doyoung.

“Well, he’s mad,” Doyoung pointed out. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“He’s not mad enough,” Taeyong insisted. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, we don’t want him too mad, because then he’ll hunt me down.”

Taeyong eyed him, sizing him up. “I think you could take him.”

“Just because I’m taller than him doesn’t mean he couldn’t break all of my bones,” Doyoung said. “He’s got a lot of shit going on in there; I don’t want to be an outlet for it.”

“Well, you’re full of rage, so I think it’s a pretty fair fight.” Taeyong gave him a pleading look. “C’mon, Doie, just play along?”

“What’re you gonna do?” 

“If I lie down with my head in your lap, will you pet my hair?”

“Gross,” Doyoung said. “But fine. If he jumps me, though, you’re paying for my funeral, and my family gets to sue you.”

“I’ll take that deal.” Taeyong shifted next to him, swiveling his legs up and over the arm of the futon, lowering himself backwards onto Doyoung’s lap. Finally situated, he looked up to meet Doyoung’s eyes and gave him a smile.

Doyoung returned it, though it was accompanied by a tired little sigh, and threaded his fingers through Taeyong’s hair. “You should brush this,” he admonished softly.

“Shut up,” Taeyong replied.

It happened so fast, Taeyong barely had time to process it. One second, he and Doyoung had only just settled into position, and the next, Ten was out the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

Their half of the room fell silent, exchanging surprised looks for only a second before the usual chatter picked back up, if now a bit cautious. Taeyong moved to sit up, to follow after Ten, maybe, but Doyoung tugged on his hair to get his attention. Taeyong followed his gaze, and saw that Jungwoo was staring moodily into his cup.

“It’s working on him, too,” Doyoung said. “Please stay. If you stay, I promise I’ll listen to you more often.”

Taeyong sighed, and relaxed back down. “Okay,” he agreed. “I don’t really know what following after him would’ve done, anyway.”

The subject of his affections ( _or was torture perhaps a more accurate word?_ ) now absent, Taeyong melted back into the conversation, laughing along with his friends. Still, it didn’t slip his notice that Kunhang left very shortly afterwards, and the burn of curiosity in Taeyong’s stomach was stronger than that of the liquor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! u can find me on tumblr [here](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about) (where my buy me a coffee is, as always, linked ^^)
> 
> earlier this week I put up the first chapter of my new johnyong hanahaki disease au work, which you can find [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439917)! my friend is contributing to this series and she will be posting her work soon, so I'll be sure to link that as well when she does! please feel free to check our series out ^^
> 
> and ofc, comments n kudos are always appreciated. thank u to those of you who've been following this story so far! your words and encouragements mean the world to me!


	8. eight (ten)

Ten was fuming, even the next morning. It was Sunday, but he was up early anyway, unable to sleep. He thought maybe winter break would’ve fixed him, but the instant he saw Taeyong again, it was like he’d never left. He should’ve never let Kunhang convince him to go, but he’d said, rather ominously, “I mean, he’s over it. Why aren’t you?” and Ten had given in to his pride.

And, rationally, why shouldn’t Taeyong have moved on? And with Doyoung, no less? He was pretty, and they were really close. What was it to Ten, that Taeyong was fucking somebody else? _Ten_ had been the one to end it; why was he now the one so cut up about it?

He decided to go for a run just for something to do, or to blow off some steam. There weren’t too many people up and about, and campus was quiet. It didn’t help much, though, because _there’s where they kissed for the first time, there’s where Taeyong had skipped up to him and surprised him with a coffee after class, there’s where Taeyong had helped him pick up all his books, even when they weren’t speaking—_

He went back to his room to find Kunhang awake and typing away at his computer. 

“You’re still pissed, I see,” he observed unhelpfully, casting him a wary glance.

“I’m not pissed,” Ten denied completely unconvincingly. “I just went for a run, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t you shower and we can talk about it over breakfast?” Kunhang yanked his towel from where it hung around his footboard and threw it to him. “Maybe some coffee will make you less grumpy.”

Ten just scowled at him, but he did as he was told, and he had to admit, as he nursed a second cup of coffee, that he did feel a little better.

“So, Doyoung and Taeyong,” Ten said, staring into his cup. “That’s… new.”

Kunhang rested his cheek on his hand. “I mean, they could just be fucking with you,” he said nonchalantly. “Doyoung and Jungwoo were together last I knew.”

“Yeah, well, they were fighting before break, right, so…” Ten clenched his jaw. “Why should it matter to me, anyway?”

“Because you care about him,” Kunhang said gently. “Which is fine, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” Ten spat. “I’m just mad that he’s moved on and I haven’t really yet. I hate losing.”

“Dude, the only way to “lose” at relationships is if you treat them like competitions,” Kunhang said. “The only thing you need to lose is that attitude.”

“Oh, fuck off, you’re not clever.”

“I am, though.” Kunhang waggled his eyebrows and gave him a shit-eating grin. “But in all seriousness. Maybe he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, make you actually talk to him.”

“I don’t see why he should,” Ten grumbled. “I made it pretty clear I wanted nothing to do with him.”

“No, you made it clear that you wanted him to _think_ that,” Kunhang corrected. “Taeyong’s kinda stupid sometimes, but he’s not that stupid. He figured it out pretty quick. We all did.”

“I don’t like this conversation,” Ten complained.

“No, I knew you wouldn’t. But if you want to stop feeling like shit, maybe consider taking your friends’ advice for once.” Kunhang stood, collecting his dishes. “I’ll leave you here to brood. It’s what you do best.”

Ten flipped him off, and Kunhang laughed as he walked away. 

\-- ♥♡♥ --

To be fair to Kunhang, Ten did spend most of that week brooding. He oscillated between _maybe they’re all right and if I just confront this it’ll work out,_ and _better the hurt you know than the one you don’t_. 

But was it even hurt that he knew? He’d never had this before. Logically, it would be better to go for the option that had a chance at improving the situation. But it could also make it worse, right—what if Taeyong and Doyoung really _were_ together? And even if they were just some kind of rebound for each other, wouldn’t that hurt Ten to know? At least when he’d had his rebounds, he never fucked any of their friends.

Even in his own mind, the words sounded hypocritical. Nothing Taeyong could do would ever come close to what Ten had done to him, and he recognized that. But he was slowly coming to the conclusion that he had no choice—that he had to ask Taeyong for another chance, or at the very least apologize. And if he got decked in the face for trying, well… he probably deserved it. At least then he could stop wondering.

Of course, just because he had landed there didn’t mean he was all too willing to act on it. It was—it was embarrassing, especially for someone like him, which was, as he pointed out to himself harshly, exactly why he had to do it, but that didn’t make it any easier. By the time the next weekend rolled around, he was still stewing, faintly grateful that his workload hadn’t picked up quite yet.

“Jaehyun and Jungwoo’s tonight,” Kunhang reminded him when he came back to their room after his last class. “You better come.”

“Will Taeyong even be there? I mean, Doyoung can’t be welcome at Jungwoo’s after all that.”

“Jaehyun said he convinced Jungwoo to let him come, and I have confirmation from Dejun that Taeyong and Doyoung will be going.”

“Together, of course,” Ten said. 

“You know, if you’d just reached out sometime earlier this week like I had suggested, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, I didn’t, so save your breath.” Ten didn’t know why he was getting so mad, so fast, but he didn’t bother to figure it out. “I don’t want to go.”

“Oh, and how will that look? What, you’re sulking because a guy _you_ broke up with might be fucking someone else? Either you confront him or just go and try to forget about it and have fun, but staying here is doing neither of those things.”

“You get really mean when you’re determined,” Ten commented.

“Yeah, it’s my hidden talent. Now get off your ass and change into something cute.”

“I’m not cute _now_?” Ten mock-pouted, spinning around in his sweatpants and t-shirt.

“You’re never cute,” Kunhang snorted. “I mean, put something on that makes people want to rob the clothes off your back. You’re a pretty favorable target.”

“Fun visual,” Ten hummed, going over to his closet.

Despite his reluctance, he found himself over at Jaehyun and Jungwoo’s a few hours later, drink in hand, back against the wall, one eye on the door.

He felt someone move beside him, and jumped a little when he spoke.

It was Jungwoo. “Guess we’re in the same boat,” he said softly in lieu of a greeting. “Getting tortured by our people and convinced to withstand it by our roommates.”

“How did you know?” Ten asked, deadpan. “Not exactly the same, though. You didn’t really do anything wrong. I… I deserve this.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “I definitely did my share of digging this hole,” he said. “So, sure, we both deserve it a little. Still, it’s a bit of an overkill, isn’t it?”

“Or it’s just real, and we have to live with it,” Ten pointed out.

“I doubt it.” Jungwoo let out a short breath of laughter. “Can you imagine them dating? They’d kill each other.”

Ten just shrugged, unconvinced, or perhaps just unwilling to give himself hope. He was spared from answering, as the door opened, and Johnny, Mark, Donghyuck, Doyoung, and, of course, Taeyong all stumbled through, laughing.

Doyoung had his arm around Taeyong’s shoulders, and neither of them spared him or Jungwoo a glance as they passed. Doyoung helped Taeyong hop up on the windowsill to sit, giving his hand a squeeze before heading over to the drinks. Taeyong watched him fondly, and Ten swallowed a bubble of hot anger.

Or maybe it was grief—underneath, anyway; maybe that’s why this was happening to him, punishment for the rage that masked his mourning. _But what am I mourning?_ He couldn’t find a solid answer, and decided he was being melodramatic. 

The night dragged on, Doyoung and Taeyong getting increasingly cuddly, Ten getting increasingly upset. He knew Jungwoo was, too, and he was really considering leaving again. What was the point? At any rate, he wouldn’t be able to confront Taeyong when Doyoung was attached to his side, and it wasn’t serving him to watch. He sighed, throwing his cup in the trash and heading for the door.

Kunhang grabbed his arm. “You’re not storming off again, are you? You might as well not have come, if that’s the case.”

Embarrassed under Kunhang’s criticism, Ten shook him off uncomfortably. “No,” he hissed back. “I just need to piss, okay? Damn.”

“Okay.” Kunhang didn’t sound like he quite believed him, but he let him go anyway. 

Ten took a deep breath once he was out in the hall, bright lights making him realize just how drunk he was. He could still walk just fine, but his vision swam a little, and his lips and cheeks felt numb. 

He splashed a little water onto his face, giving his reflection a good look. “Don’t be a pussy,” he murmured at himself sharply, shaking his head and turning to head back out into the hall.

Taeyong almost collided with him as he rounded the corner.

“I thought you were gone,” he said, a little bit sheepish.

“And if I was?” Ten tried to push past him, but Taeyong blocked him. “Why do you care? You have Doyoung.”

“I should be asking _you_ that question. Thought you pride yourself in not getting attached,” Taeyong said, and Ten could tell he was being a bitch on purpose, pushing all his buttons because he knew how. “Thought you didn’t care about me at all. So why do _you_ care about _Doyoung_?”

“Yeah, that’s a really good question, why should I?” Ten had wanted to apologize, to work something out, but Taeyong was making it really difficult. “I don’t know, I guess I shouldn’t, then, right? I guess I’m just mad because you had that whole shouting match with me only to turn around and act like you never gave a shit about me to begin with. Waste of time, if that was true all along.” The words were almost tripping over each other on their way out of his mouth, and honestly, Ten wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, just that he was trying to make it sting.

“You fucking idiot,” Taeyong said, but his voice was even, mild. “It’s still you.” Ten stared at him, taken aback by the bluntness of the statement. Before he could put together the words to reply, Taeyong continued, “It’s been you, even when I was so mad at you for all you said, even when I was at parties without you, even when the smell of your shampoo faded from my pillow. And I know it’s that way for you, too. I was too busy being hurt last time to see it, but Ten—I _see_ you. So you don’t have to do this whole—whatever this is. I’m not even mad anymore, even though I probably should be. I just need to hear you say it, that you care about me too. Just say it, and you can have me.”

These words hung in the air for a split second, and Ten hated how small and stupid they made him feel. “Why should I care about what you need?”

“Stop saying things you don’t mean just ‘cuz you’re mad,” Taeyong said. “It doesn’t work on me anymore. And you’re damn lucky it doesn’t! I don’t think anybody else would be this patient with a dumbass like you, I mean, seriously—”

“Okay, Jesus!” Ten shouted, cutting him off. “I get it, I’m stupid and I fucking suck, and I was mean for no reason! I’m _fucking_ sorry, okay? You don’t have to tell me what I am, or that I should apologize, because I _know_ already! I’m just scared, because—“ He felt like he was out of air, but he forced himself to keep going. “Because I really fucking like you, and I don’t know exactly why, and I sure as hell don’t know what to do with it.”

He saw a smile spread across Taeyong’s lips, and he had barely begun trying to analyze it before Taeyong had his hands on either side of his face, and then they were kissing. There was nothing sweet or gentle about it—in the chaos of their movements, Taeyong had smacked his nose against Ten’s so hard it made Ten’s eyes water, but he didn’t care. His hands found Taeyong’s waist, and he pulled him closer, devouring the little noises Taeyong was making. Some unnamable feeling swelled in Ten’s chest, and for a second he felt like he was going to cry. He pushed his head forward, insistent, hungry, nipping at Taeyong’s lips.

They broke apart to catch their breath, and Taeyong draped his arms over Ten’s shoulders, linking his hands behind his neck, eyes glassy and half-shut. “I missed you,” he whispered and Ten groaned.

“Okay, that’s it,” he said, digging around in his pockets for his phone. “Kunhang’s going to have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Taeyong gave a delighted giggle, refusing to detach himself from Ten and instead peeking at the screen of his phone as Ten brought it up between them to send off a text. Ten put his phone away again and stole a quick kiss before coaxing Taeyong’s arms off of him.

“Good thing we’re all in the same building, hm?” he asked, offering his hand to Taeyong. “Rushing across campus in the snow and the ice doesn’t sound safe.” 

Taeyong just hummed, pressing into his side. It was so stupid, but Ten was already half-hard, reveling in how eager Taeyong seemed, in how he clung to him and refused to let go. 

Ten shoved the door of his room closed, turning the lock and clicking on the light of his diffuser so they weren’t in total darkness. Taeyong was already pulling off his sheer red button down and the little white tee he had on underneath, shoes and socks discarded by the door. 

“You know how good you look in ripped skinny jeans?” Ten asked, reaching out and hooking his fingers through Taeyong’s belt loops to pull him in. It felt strangely like their first time together, but somehow Ten found it fitting.

“You mean in general, or when I’m wearing them and nothing else?” he asked.

“Both. Don’t fish for compliments.” Ten didn’t mean anything by it though; knew Taeyong knew he was happy to drown him in all the compliments he wanted.

Taeyong just grinned, ducking his head to kiss the hollow of Ten’s throat, backing him up against his desk. He worked his way down Ten’s chest, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, reaching up to slide the fabric off his shoulders. Ten wrestled his arms free from the sleeves and ran his fingers through Taeyong’s hair, trying not to laugh when his breath tickled his stomach. 

Taeyong put a hand on his belt and looked up at him. “Can I?”

“Please,” Ten agreed. He let Taeyong undress him, nudging the pile of clothes aside with his foot when he was naked. Taeyong had dropped to his knees and took the head of Ten’s cock into his mouth as soon as Ten had stilled. He suckled at the tip for a moment before sliding all the way down the base, hollowing his cheeks and making Ten see stars. 

He let Taeyong do what he wanted, almost scared to move, panting out harsh breaths at Taeyong’s every movement. His grip on Ten’s hips was bruising, but Ten didn’t mind one bit, liked that Taeyong was pinning him down and having his way with him. Taeyong moved his head back and forth, gagging more for show than just naturally, tongue swirling around the tip when he pulled off every now and again, little kitten licks that had Ten dizzy.

“Forgot how good you are at this, baby,” he said, forcing control into his voice. Taeyong whimpered, and Ten brought a hand to his head, using his thumb to swipe away a stray tear, a byproduct of the abuse Taeyong was putting his throat through. “So good,” he emphasized, “but if you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to stop.”

Taeyong made a noise of disagreement but pulled off all the same, coughing when he drew a deep breath, swiping away a string of saliva that was connecting his lips and the head of Ten’s cock, both glistening.

“I missed you calling me baby,” he said when he could breathe again, and Ten laughed.

“On the bed, baby,” he replied, helping him to his feet and swatting him on the hip lightly. “These’ll have to come off, unfortunately,” he added about Taeyong’s jeans.

Taeyong slid his pants and underwear down as he walked to Ten’s bed, hopping up on it and kicking them the rest of the way off before pushing the duvet aside and getting settled on his hands and knees.

Ten retrieved the lube, hand hovering over the pile of condoms he kept in his desk drawer. “Are you still clean?” he asked over his shoulder. “I am.”

“I think so,” Taeyong said. “I haven’t been with anybody else.”

“Not Doyoung?” Ten knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Taeyong say it. He closed the desk drawer and strolled over to the bed, lube in hand. 

“We didn’t. We were just borrowing each other, to make you and Woo jealous.”

“I think I should be flattered?”

“Leave it to you to take it that way. Regardless, it worked.” Taeyong nodded his head once, like he was gesturing to the whole situation. 

“Well, clearly. You don’t have to be a brat about it.” Ten situated himself behind Taeyong, slicking up his fingers and then palming Taeyong’s ass, spreading him roughly, thumbing over his hole and smiling when he shivered.

“Will you—” Ten heard Taeyong’s breath hitch. “Will you eat me out, sir? Please?”

Ten responded by spreading him wider and kissing right over his entrance. Taeyong gave a breathy moan and dropped down to his elbows, arching back against Ten’s mouth. He got messy really quickly, saliva spreading down his chin, but he didn’t mind, encouraged by the way Taeyong gasping and shifting under him. 

Eventually, Taeyong pushed him away. “Sorry, ‘m getting impatient,” he explained when Ten raised his eyebrows at him. “It’s good, I just want more.”

“More?” Ten teased, sitting back on his heels. “More what?”

“Want you to fuck me.” Taeyong’s tone was all petulance, and Ten gave him a sound smack on the ass.

“Watch your manners,” he scolded, but he didn’t waste any time pushing a finger into Taeyong’s hole, pleased with the way he cried out in surprise.

It had been months, but Ten hadn’t forgotten his way around Taeyong’s body. He found his prostate quickly, stroking over it and watching Taeyong fall apart. The prep was easy; he didn’t have to worry if he was adding a finger too soon, didn’t have to second-guess the way Taeyong tensed around him.

“You know,” he murmured as he slipped a third finger in beside the first two, “I missed you, too. I tried to forget you, but whenever I was alone, or jacking off, or even when I was fucking other boys, I was thinking about you.”

“You thought of me?” Taeyong was breathless, and he sounded almost giddy.

“Of course.” Ten curled his fingers against Taeyong’s prostate with every thrust, earning him a string of whimpers. “Did you think of me, too?”

“Mm, every day,” Taeyong confessed, and Ten felt dark, heavy pride billow up like smog in his chest. “Please, please, ‘m ready, I _need_ you.”

Ten couldn’t argue—he was just as impatient, his own cock dripping precome, an almost constant stream. “Okay, baby.” His voice came out low and laced with desire. “Flip over for me? I wanna see you.”

Taeyong keened, high and reedy, pushing himself up and flopping over on his back while Ten reached back for the lube. As soon as Taeyong had repositioned himself, Ten was on him in an instant, spreading his legs and folding them up. Taeyong automatically hooked his arms under his knees, and when Ten was close enough, he stretched his head up to steal a kiss. Ten kissed him back, one hand between them to guide his cock into Taeyong’s hole. 

“ _Fuck_ , Ten, feel so good,” Taeyong hissed out against his lips. “‘M so _full_.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck you wide open, baby?” Ten forced himself to start slow, to give Taeyong a moment to relax around him, even though all he wanted to do was rail him so hard he bled.

“Mm-hm, _yes_!” It came out as a cry, and they were both being so loud, but Ten couldn’t find it in him to care. Sure, his neighbors might look at him weird the next day, but what did it matter, when he had _this_? “Want it,” Taeyong was continuing, “want you.”

Ten knocked his forehead against Taeyong’s, one hand cradling the base of his skull, rocking his hips forward and swallowing Taeyong’s moans. His breathing was ragged and he’d be embarrassed at how close he was if he didn’t know Taeyong was just as strung out as he was. He was so pliant beneath him, letting Ten fold him in half “—you’re like a little doll, baby, so perfect for me—” and the way he made little _mm-hm, mm-hm_ noises of agreement drove Ten crazy.

He could’ve just gone easy on the both of them, he supposed, and they’d both walk away satisfied, but he wanted to prove to Taeyong he was at least good for one thing, and that was making him feel better than anyone else he’d ever meet could. Ten was a lot of things, but above all else he was stubborn, so he kept going, even when he felt sweat break out across his body, because Taeyong was still able to form words, and Ten wanted him incoherent, wanted him gone.

Ten dipped his head down to suck a mark into Taeyong’s neck, sharp and bold over a pulsing vein. Taeyong stuttered out a moan, letting it turn into a long whine when Ten didn’t let go, didn’t stop fucking him within an inch of his life, hard and fast and dirty.

He could feel Taeyong’s thighs trembling next to his shoulders, and he knew he was almost there when Taeyong started mewling, noise only broken by hiccuped breaths. Ten shifted his weight onto one arm so he could reach down and jerk Taeyong off, but just as he was lifting his hand, Taeyong sobbed, and he felt something hot and wet hit his stomach.

“ _Shit_ , baby, did you just come?” he asked, finding Taeyong’s eyes and holding him there in his gaze.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t ask, I’m sorry,” Taeyong rambled out, chest heaving, and _oh, god,_ he was still coming.

“Don’t fucking apologize.” Ten stopped him before he could worry about it. “That’s so hot, baby, you coming untouched like that.”

“Couldn’t stop myself.” His words were slurred, eyes glazed. “Felt so good.” He frowned, pouting a little. “Want you to feel good, too. Wanna see you come, sir.”

“ _Fuck_.” Having accomplished his goal, Ten could feel his orgasm building, heady waves of pleasure crashing over him, like his whole body was on fire. Despite his exhaustion, he found a way to go faster, and Taeyong wailed, one leg slipping loose and falling to the side, his hand scrabbling at Taeyong’s shoulder.

Ten scrunched a fistful of his sheets so tight in his hand he could feel the dull sting of his nails in his palm through the layers of fabric. “Gonna make me come, baby,” he warned when Taeyong clenched down around him. “You’ve been so good, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” Taeyong whimpered. “Want you to fill me up, sir, it’s been so long.”

Ten bit back what probably would have been a scream, shaking, his thrusts slowing to a stop as he finally came, seated deep inside the heat of Taeyong’s body.

It took all of his energy not to collapse on top of Taeyong. He pushed himself up and off, pulling out and immediately replacing his dick with a couple fingers so the sheets didn’t get dirty. Taeyong gave a pained noise, shooting him an indignant look.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ten cooed, stretching to grab tissues out of the box that was perched on his windowsill. “Gimme a second.” Carefully, he wiped away the mess, doing his best with the drying remains of Taeyong’s release as well.

When they were all cleaned up, Ten padded across the room to throw the tissues in the trash and turn off the light. 

“So I can stay?” Taeyong asked softly, hesitantly lifting the covers.

“Yes, of course you can stay,” Ten replied, climbing back onto the bed and wrapping himself around Taeyong, pressing a kiss into his hair. 

Taeyong made a little content noise. “‘M tired,” he said quietly. “We have to talk in the morning, though, okay?”

“Okay,” Ten agreed, even though it made his stomach twist up into knots, worse than earbuds left loose in a pocket. 

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Ten pulled Taeyong closer, lulled by his warmth. “We can talk all you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” Taeyong sounded more or less convinced. “G’night, Ten.”

“Night, baby,” Ten replied, letting his eyes flutter shut.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Ten checked his phone the next morning to find it flooded with messages.

From: kunhang

**> > jesus ok.**

**> > you’re gonna actually talk abt ur feelings**

**this time right instead of being a dick**

**> > cuz if you’re a dick again im kicking u out of**

**our room forever I will steal your fucking keys**

**> > you’re lucky Yukhei and Sicheng have a futon**

**> > also what time am I allowed back in MY room**

**tomorrow morning?**

**> > alright, im assuming you’re not gonna answer**

**for a little while so be safe and make smart**

**decisions ok goodnight dumbass**

**> > oh, and you’re WELCOME.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank uuu for reading!!! gentle note that my other nct fic is up n running! i should also be posting a new part of my superm oneshots sometime soon (at least. I hope thats true. emphasis on should). 
> 
> as usual, my tumblr is [here!](kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about)


	9. nine (taeyong)

By the time they woke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Taeyong watched blearily as Ten fumbled around with his phone, no doubt sending a text or two to Kunhang to update him. He put his phone back down after a minute and turned, meeting Taeyong’s eyes.

“Hi,” Taeyong breathed out.

“Hi,” Ten replied.

“Thought maybe I dreamed it,” Taeyong murmured, reaching out to touch his face.

“I thought so too,” Ten admitted, running light touches up and down his arm. “But here we are.”

“Mm, yes.” Taeyong giggled. “You like me,” he said. “You said it, you can’t take it back now.”

“I don’t intend to,” Ten said, so earnestly that Taeyong sobered immediately. “Hey. I want to say sorry again. I’m sorry for being an asshole and an idiot.”

“I know,” Taeyong gave him a small smile.

“It’s just… I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like this about somebody,” Ten began. “Or, it’s been a while, at least. And.. It scares me, because I really do like you, and it makes me into another person, almost—I don’t want anybody looking at you the way I look at you. And that feels—that feels weird, I don’t know. It’s so consuming.”

“I like that.” Taeyong couldn’t stop his voice from turning a little dreamy. “I want that, want you to be jealous and possessive. It shows me you care, that I matter to you.” His hand was still on Ten’s cheek. Ten was looking at him so intently, and here was something so intimate about it, it almost took Taeyong’s breath away. “That’s all I really want, just for you to act like I matter, and for you to let me show you that you matter to me, too.”

“Okay.” Ten’s voice had an almost imperceptible tremor in it. “I can do that.” Taeyong laughed again, guiding Ten’s head down so he could kiss him. “You’re gonna have to help me, though,” he added when they broke away. “I’m not really sure how to—to navigate this.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “We’ll just do normal couple things, like, I don’t know, go on coffee dates, watch movies at night, sexile our roommates… and just figure out what works best for us, together.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter what we do, as long as we’re happy, and we do it together.”

“Okay,” Ten agreed. 

“I’m yours and you’re mine, that’s all I’m saying. _Sir_ ,” he added, just to tease, and Ten flushed. “Now let’s get up, I’m hungry,” he insisted, pushing at Ten’s shoulder. Ten laughed and rolled off the bed, feet hitting the floor with a gentle slap. Taeyong was right behind him, brushing another quick kiss to his cheek as he bounced past, poking into Ten’s closet for clothes to steal.

He watched Ten’s back as they headed down the hall. He was still wary; just because Ten had apologized and seemed, at least, to understand now what Taeyong wanted didn’t mean he wouldn’t run away the instant things became difficult. But Taeyong was happy to hope for the best, all the same. He sped up a little so that they were side by side and threaded his fingers through Ten’s, giving him a smile when Ten turned, surprised by his sudden appearance.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, gesturing to their hands.

Ten brought their hands up to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to Taeyong’s knuckles, and Taeyong felt his heart rip free from his ribcage and soar out the window. “Yes,” Ten said with a laugh. “Yes, it’s okay.”

\-- ♥♡♥ --

After everything that had happened, Taeyong did feel a little ridiculous being this happy about it. _Or_ , he reasoned _, maybe that’s all the more reason to be happy about it_. Getting here—here, in Ten’s bed, head on his thigh, dozing as Ten finished a reading while he absentmindedly petted Taeyong’s hair—hadn’t been easy. And there were still moments where it felt like the fall all over again. Ten would grow distant at times, and though he always acknowledged it and apologized, and did his best to make up for it one way or another, Taeyong always had to bring it up to him for him to do it, and he was tired of it. 

He hadn’t expected it to be smooth sailing immediately, and all things considered, things were going fine. But Taeyong hadn’t really factored in how hard it would be to be back in similar situations, ghosts and shadows of Ten’s old behavior seeping into his day to day, and dragging him back to the hurt he’d felt leading up to and immediately following their fight.

And the truth was, there was a part of Taeyong that was worried Ten actually didn’t like him all that much, still, that he was still playing the same game with him, just more advanced this time. In his worst moments, he couldn’t help but wonder if Ten wasn’t just hanging around because he figured out exactly how to manipulate him, or worse, he was staying because he pitied Taeyong. Maybe he’d lied; maybe he thought he missed him but really all he’d missed was the sex and now he felt stuck—but Taeyong didn’t know how to say all that, especially not if he couldn’t really point at anything specifically to back up his fears.

But then, there were the best moments, like now. Ten closed his book above Taeyong’s head, setting it aside and bringing his hand down to his cheek. “What’re you thinking about, baby? You look like you’re far away.” His eyes were so kind, so sincere; his voice gentle and sweet, and Taeyong shook his worries away.

“Nothing,” he replied, turning to nuzzle against Ten’s palm. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Ten laughed. “I like everything you cook,” he said. “You said you were gonna make chocolate cake, right?”

“Mm, yes, to go with the matcha ice cream you bought.” Taeyong gave him a strict look. “That’s not dinner, though.”

“It can be if you’re not a coward,” Ten challenged, pouting.

“I’ll make pad thai if it’ll get you to eat your vegetables,” Taeyong offered. 

“Ooh, please!”

Taeyong threw together the batter for the chocolate cake, then made Ten mix it while he started prepping the ingredients for the pad thai. Finally, after a lot of whining on Ten’s part, Taeyong decided the cake batter was ready, and he poured it into a medium-sized ramekin, hoping the dorm oven wouldn’t catch on fire. When the pad thai was simmering on the stove and the smell of chocolate had filled the whole kitchen, Taeyong washed his hands and took a seat.

Ten dished out a couple servings, making delighted noises the whole time. “It smells so good! It’s like how my mom makes it.”

Taeyong smiled, accepting the bowl that Ten passed him, and digging in. They sat mostly in silence, and Taeyong let himself pretend like they were in their own kitchen in an apartment, and that this was like any weekday night, that Ten would always let him this close, if not closer. 

“Doyoung’s staying at Jungwoo’s,” Taeyong mentioned as he pulled the cake out of the oven, careful not to burn himself.

“Oh? Where’s Jaehyun staying, then?” Ten asked.

“I dunno. Maybe Yuta and Taeil’s.” Taeyong shrugged, poking through the freezer to find their ice cream. “What’s important is, my room is free. If you want.”

“I always want,” Ten said, making grabby hands at him. 

“Is that for me or for the ice cream?” Taeyong asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Right now it’s for the ice cream,” Ten said, cheeky as always. “But there’s nothing wrong with Second Dessert.”

“You’re gross,” Taeyong said, handing him a spoon along with the pint. “Not too much, it’ll keep you up.”

“You’ll wear me out, I’m not worried about it,” Ten replied, and Taeyong couldn’t argue with that.

They abandoned the cake halfway through, eating the ice cream off the top so it wouldn’t get soggy, throwing their dirty dishes in the sink, and bringing the uneaten food back to Taeyong’s room to put in his mini fridge. Taeyong had hardly closed the door to the fridge before Ten’s hands were on him, and he let him manhandle him onto the bed. As Ten tugged off his shirt, Taeyong found himself wondering why he was so worried to begin with. If the price he had to pay for this was a little anxiety, so what? It was worth it, if he could have nights like this some of the time. Right in that moment, things were perfect. He was full and warm, and Ten was treating him like he was his whole world. What more could he want? He couldn’t form an answer to his own question, because Ten was kissing his breath away, and it was all Taeyong could think about.

Unsurprisingly, his kisses tasted like chocolate.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

“He’s doing it again,.” Taeyong announced, dropping his bag on the floor sullenly and stomping over to his bed. “He cancelled all our plans today, just said he was busy, and now he’s not answering any of my texts.”

“Maybe he is just busy,” Doyoung offered feebly from where he was seated on the floor by his bed. “Midterms are soon…ish.”

“Midterms aren’t for like three weeks. Besides, the only project he really has is that dance thing with Sicheng, and Sicheng already told me he’s nowhere to be found,” Taeyong said. “I know he needs his space because this is—like, hard for him or whatever, but I need him to be a little more careful with me! Am I being ridiculous? Like, it’s not too much to ask, right?”

Doyoung sighed. “I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s too much to expect from the average person, but Taeyong—have you considered maybe it’s just too much to ask from him? Like… I know you believe in him, and I know you want to be right, because you—I mean, let’s face it, you love him, don’t you?”

Taeyong swallowed. “And so what if I do?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just—I’m just not sure he’s at a place where he can love you back, or at least love you in a way that you can both understand.” Doyoung was trying to soften the blow as much as possible, but there was only so much he could do.

“You think I should break up with him.” It wasn’t a question.

“I never said that,” Doyoung said evenly. “You’ve just given him so many chances, Taeyong, and you can’t just keep on letting him hurt you. I’m not saying you have to break up with him, I’m just saying you have to make sure you’re not letting your wellbeing fall to the wayside because you’re busy being his savior.”

It was like a slap to the face, really—Taeyong remembered what his sister had said. _You want to save him. If he crashes and burns—just, like, put on your own oxygen mask first, you know?_

_He’s my oxygen mask, noona,_ Taeyong thought to himself, a small corner of his brain still recognizing it was a bit dramatic of him, but meaning it all the same.

“Why not talk to him about it?” Doyoung was saying.

“I… can’t.” Taeyong didn’t know how to explain. “I can’t ask for that. I can’t ask for him to change everything about the way he is just to accommodate my feelings.”

“You’re not asking him to change everything. You’re just asking him to love you a little louder, that’s all.”

“We haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet,” Taeyong said. “He probably doesn’t love me—no, don’t argue, you just said it yourself—and I certainly haven’t let on that I love him. And besides, I’ve kind of already mentioned that it bothers me, every time he does this. I always tell him, like, ‘hey, it makes me worried that you don’t care about me when you do this,’ but he doesn’t change.”

“I mean, you’ve never really told him exactly what you need from him, just that you don’t like what he’s doing now,” Doyoung pointed out. “He probably just doesn’t know what to do.”

Taeyong just shook his head. “If I have to tell him exactly what to do, then it’s not genuine. It—It doesn’t count.”

Doyoung furrowed his brow. “Yeah, but you can’t just expect someone to naturally know exactly how best to care for you, either.”

“It’s not my job to teach him. I shouldn’t have to teach him,” Taeyong insisted, feeling burning anger rise in his throat.

“I mean, it’s up to you,” Doyoung said, clearly ready for the conversation to be over, so Taeyong dropped it.

The next morning Taeyong received a series of texts from Ten.

from: dummy 🖤

**> > hey im so sorry**

**> > my work is done now though**

**> >** **the theater in town is showing howl’s**

**moving castle tonight and it’s half off**

**for kids and college students**

**> > if you’re free lets go, and we can get**

**dinner after, wherever you like**

And Taeyong, even in his anger, even in his hurt, felt his heart blossom all over again. Even though it kind of felt like Ten was trying to buy his forgiveness—at least he was trying, right? And not every problem they had could be smoothed over by dinner dates or shoved aside enough times that the pent up emotions exploded into an argument that would then turn into some of the hottest sex Taeyong could imagine, ever, but maybe some of them could. Right?

After the movie, Ten took him to hot pot ( _he’s_ really _trying to apologize,_ Taeyong couldn’t help but think). He watched as Ten carefully checked the meat to make sure it was cooked before dishing it out for Taeyong. Taeyong nodded his thanks.

“What’s wrong?” Ten had clearly noticed his downcast expression.

“I know you’re trying,” Taeyong said. “I know. It’s just… when you blow me off, over and over, no amount of... of this—“ he gestured to the food “—will fix it, or make me feel better.”

“I know,” Ten murmured. “I’m sorry. I just don’t…” He sighed, putting his chopsticks down and folding his hands under his chin, elbows resting on the edge of the table. “What _would_ make you feel better?”

Taeyong couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “For you not to do it,” he said. “I know I’m not—I’m not perfect, but I want us to work. If you’re feeling, I don’t know, overwhelmed, just let me know instead of not talking to me, or being really curt, or—“

“It’s not like I can predict when it’s going to happen,” Ten said. “Or when I’ll get busy.”

“No, I know, but just—“ Taeyong bit his lip. He wanted him to say he still cared about Taeyong, that he just needed a little time to himself; he wanted _reassurance_ —but if he asked him to say things like that, then he’d never know if he actually meant it. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” he said helplessly. “I feel like I’m asking for something you can’t give me. It just… it makes me anxious. It makes me feel like you don’t like me anymore.”

“But I _do_ ,” Ten said, reaching to take his hand. Taeyong let him trace circles into his palm, but it wasn’t soothing at all. “You know I like you. I’m—I’m doing my best, okay? I’m not very good at this. I can’t say it’s not going to happen anymore, because I know it will. But I also know if you just give me a little time to sort it out when it does, I’ll be back to normal in no time. I’m sorry. Can you be patient with me?”

Taeyong blew out a breath. He wanted to say _but normal for you_ is _the distance, the cold detachment, the ignoring my texts and canceling all our plans_. He wanted to say _if this is your best, it’s not enough._ But instead, he just said, “Okay.”

When they got back to their dorm, Ten asked if he wanted to sleep over. “Kunhang said he wouldn’t be home till late, if at all,” he said, implying that they would be doing more than just sleeping.

But Taeyong’s heart was heavy, and he didn’t think he could handle the way Ten liked to use sex as a bandaid; at least, not tonight. He shook his head. “I’m really tired,” he said, voice tight and only just above a whisper. “Sorry.”

Ten gave him a funny look, but just nodded. “‘Kay,” he said. “Sleep well, then.” 

Taeyong let him kiss him goodnight, and then slipped away to his room. He went through the motions of his nighttime routine, not really paying attention, almost burning himself in the shower because he turned the water way too hot. _Is it something wrong with me?_ he wondered miserably as he let the harsh streams of water beat against his skin. _Am I not enough? I know I’m not that handsome, or funny, or smart, but surely I’m not so terrible or pathetic that he would stick with me for any reason other than that he really likes me? But if he does, how can he let me go on like this? He knows how it feels to me, so why won’t he make a change?_

Doyoung was already asleep when Taeyong got back from the bathroom, so he tried to keep his sniffling to a minimum, doing his best to draw slow, steady breaths even as he cried.

When he finally fell asleep, his tears were still warm on his cheeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! thank u as always for reading! pls feel free to come say hi to me on my [Tumblr](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about), and check out my other works! ^^
> 
> one final note: next week's chapter will go up on thursday as I will be traveling all of friday!


	10. ten (ten)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR: MILD ALCOHOL ABUSE, VOMIT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i ensure chapter 10 would be from ten's perspective cuz i thought it would be funny? yes.  
> also yeah this is a day early as I'm traveling all of tomorrow!!

“This is why I hate relationships,” Ten griped to Kun. “What does he want from me?”

“He wants you to be reliable,” Kun said. “It’s really not that hard, you’re just dense.”

“Yeah, but I always tell him that I need some space, and then I always come back and say sorry, and spend lots of time with him to make up for it. That’s consistent, right?”

“Consistent and reliable are not the same.” Kun looked at him over the tops of his glasses, gaze severe. “He probably wants you to say something like, ‘hey, I love you but I need a minute to myself. I’ll be okay, please don’t worry, we’ll see each other tomorrow’, so that he doesn’t have to wonder how long it’s going to take you to get back to him—and if you’re going to get back to him at all. And in return, you can ask that he leave you alone during that time. Works out for both of you.”

“Hang on, back up to ‘I love you’ because we haven’t gotten there yet.” Ten frowned at him. “And I don’t know if we will.”

“Ten, you’re in love with him. That’s the only reason all this has you so scared,” Kun said. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t tell you you’re wrong, but I can’t tell you that you’re right, either,” Ten argued. “I don’t know yet.”

“Okay, regardless,” Kun pressed on. “Then say, ‘hey I still care about you’ or some shit. Just something so he doesn’t drive himself insane with worry. You know he’s really good at that.”

“But why wouldn’t he tell me, if that’s what would help? I asked him what would make him feel better and all he said was that it would be nice if I wouldn’t go MIA. But I feel like that’s too much to ask, at least not all at once.”

“He’s probably worried you’ll take it wrong or something,” Kun said. “It would be pretty vulnerable of him to admit it, right? You haven’t given him many reasons to trust that his vulnerability would be safe with you.”

Ten scowled because he couldn’t even defend himself. As usual. “I’ll bring it up tonight, then,” he grumbled. “No, really, I will,” he insisted when Kun gave him a skeptical look. “I… I don’t want to lose him again.”

“Yeah, you fucking love him,” Kun stated, shaking his head. Ten bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he was right.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Ten checked his phone. It was eight, well past when Taeyong had originally said he’d be over. He hadn’t texted or anything, even after Ten had sent a follow-up text about a half an hour ago, and he felt the little ball of worry in his stomach grow larger by the minute. _I’ll give him a little longer, and then I’ll call him_ , he decided. _Maybe he just fell asleep or something._

There was a knock on the door and Ten jumped to his feet, closing his textbook and hurrying to the door. It was Taeyong, much to his relief.

“Where were you, baby?” Ten asked, taking his wrist and pulling him inside. “Are you okay? You didn’t respond, so I was a little worried.”

“Worried?” Taeyong’s eyes weren’t quite focused on him, and Ten found that his worry was now mixing with fear. “‘Msorry. At least now you know how you make me feel, all the time.”

“What do you m—hey, careful.” Ten brought his hand up to Taeyong’s shoulder to steady him. He was swaying, like he was—like he was— “Are you drunk?” Ten asked cautiously, drawing closer and immediately smelling the alcohol on his breath.

“Yeah, I am.” Taeyong gave him a petulant look. “Should I say sorry again? ‘Snot like you can make me un-drunk now.”

“Taeyong, baby, what’s wrong?” Ten knitted his brows, trying to guide Taeyong into a chair, but he wouldn’t budge. “Why’d you drink? Why—What’s going on?”

“Stop pulling, it hurts.” Taeyong shook himself free instead of replying.

“Sorry,” Ten said, withdrawing his hand quickly. “Do you… do you wanna talk about it?”

Taeyong scoffed, spitting out a laugh. “Talk about it? Talk about what? What’s the point? It won’t fix anything, won’t change anything. You’ve never listened to me before, why would you start now?”

Ten felt icy cold tendrils of guilt trickle down his shoulders and wrap around his torso and his chest. “I’ll listen, baby, I promise,” he pleaded. “Just talk to me.”

“Every time we try t’ talk about it, we end up jus’ going around ’n’ around in circles,” Taeyong argued, pausing to hiccup. “We never really fix the problem; it just turns into a new version of the same thing. I can’t keep pretending hot pot and a movie, or one round of—of sex is a good enough apology. Talk to you, what will that solve?” He was speaking through gritted teeth, and that mixed with how much he was slurring made it very difficult for Ten to understand him, so he almost missed the next part. “It’s not like I can talk you into loving me, so what’s the point?”

“Wh-what?” Ten didn’t know how else to respond. He was frozen, one hand outstretched, not sure if touching him would help or hurt, heart pounding in his ears.

“Of course that makes you stop ’n’ stare at me like I’m pointing a fuckin’ gun at you or something.” There was actual disgust in Taeyong’s voice, and though he wasn’t the one with the spins, Ten thought he might vomit. “Yeah, I love you and I want you to love me back. But all you can do is—is _hide_ from me. I’m supposed t’ be the one you go to when you’re having a h-hard time, but instead I end up feeling _useless_ and unwanted. You j-just keep blowing me off, ’n’ I feel like ‘m never gonna know you.”

Ten busied himself by pouring a glass of water as he formulated a reply. “I’m really sorry I’ve made you feel that way,” he said, not really sure if anything he said would matter at this point, if Taeyong would even remember any of this. “Let’s talk about this in the morning, when you’re sober, okay? Right now, can you drink some water for me?” He extended the cup to Taeyong, but Taeyong pushed his hand aside. “I’m serious, baby, you’re scaring me. Please sit down and drink a little, at least.”

Taeyong shoved his hand this time, saying, “I don’t fuckin’ want it,” taking a step forward as he did it, and the cup slipped from Ten’s grasp. Water sloshed up and out, hitting both of them before the cup fell, skittering across the floor and spilling it everywhere.

“Hey!” Ten couldn’t stop himself from giving a shout of surprise, staring down in dismay at his shirt.

“Shit, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Taeyong muttered. “I didn’t—It’s just that you’re not _listening_ to me.”

“I am, I am, I hear you, but you—you’re not doing well right now, so let’s just take care of this first, okay?” Ten yanked his towel off its hanger and threw it onto the puddle before it could spread further. Taeyong made a movement to bend down and help clean, but Ten waved him away. “No, it’s okay. It’s just water, I can deal with it. You just sit.”

Taeyong sank to his knees, and Ten looked at him, confused.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong repeated, and Ten wasn’t sure if he quite knew what he was saying anymore. “I’m sorry, sir. I love you, and I’m sorry for that, too.”

Ten felt like his heart was shattering, because he knew exactly why he was apologizing. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, crouching across from him, still not sure if he should touch. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you gonna throw up?” He snatched his wastebasket from under his desk and put it in front of Taeyong. “It’s okay, just do it in there.”

“I’m fine, what’re you talking about?” Taeyong raised his eyes to meet Ten’s, but as he was doing so, he spasmed, and then he was bent over again, puking violently into the trash can.

Ten sighed, abandoning his soaked towel and moving next to Taeyong, brushing his hair off his clammy forehead and rubbing his back. After a few moments, Taeyong sat back on his heels with a groan, hands slipping from the side of the trash bin.

“All done?” Ten asked quietly. Taeyong just made another miserable noise in response. “I’ll give you another minute. Then you should go brush your teeth, maybe take a quick shower. I’ll help you, ‘kay?”

It took some maneuvering, but Ten managed to prop Taeyong up against his shoulder, spare toothbrush and towel in hand, and lead him down the hall to the bathroom. He heated up the shower while Taeyong brushed his teeth, and then followed him into the stall, helping him get undressed without falling and passing him various soaps. He dried him off and wrapped the towel around him, and then took him back to his room. 

He pulled a big t-shirt over Taeyong’s head and arms and helped him into bed. Then, he dragged his chair over to the head of his bed.

“Gonna be okay by yourself?” he asked, putting a plastic bag on the chair. “I’ll be back in a second. If you’re gonna puke again, try to do it in that.”

He sprinted down the hall, taking out the vomit-filled trash bag and tying it in a knot before throwing it in the big trash cans in the kitchen, then washed his hands really quick before jogging back to his room.

Taeyong hadn’t moved from where he was lying under the covers, and for a second Ten wondered if he was still alive. It was a horrible thought, and it made his stomach lurch in a way he couldn’t explain. Taeyong was fine, though—and awake, too, eyes barely open and staring at nothing. Ten pushed the new plastic bag into the trash can and balanced it on the chair by Taeyong’s head.

“Taeyong, can you sit up for just a sec?” he coaxed, filling a new cup with water and bringing it to him. “Just drink this, you’ll thank me in the morning.” With his help, Taeyong propped himself up enough to accept the water, which he drank obediently. “Thank you.”

“Where’re you gonna sleep?” Taeyong croaked out.

“Don’t worry about me,” Ten soothed. “Just close your eyes. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Taeyong either seemed to accept this, or was just too exhausted to argue, because he did as he was told, head sinking into the pillow.

Ten sighed, and cleaned up the rest of the mess, then changed into a dry t-shirt and pair of shorts, and grabbed his sleeping bag from the closet.

to: kunhang

**Taeyong’s passed out on my bed bc he <<**

**drank too much so im sleeping on the floor**

**Just wanted to let u know so u didn’t <<**

**get scared or something**

**Sorry <<**

Without bothering to wait for a response, Ten unzipped the sleeping bag and crawled inside. Despite his concern for the boy in his bed, despite his discomfort, and despite how early it was, sleep found him easily. He didn’t even stir when Kunhang returned.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Ten was sore when he woke the next morning, the cold from their weird plastic flooring noticeable even through the down of his sleeping bag. He made a small noise of discomfort, wriggling free from the bag, and stood, stretching.

Kunhang was snoring quietly in his bed, and Taeyong had rolled over to his other side in the night so that he was facing the wall. Ten approached him cautiously and was relieved to see no new vomit. Taeyong was a lightweight, so there probably hadn’t been a lot in his system for him to get out. Ten grabbed a sticky note and wrote, “gone to the dining hall. I’ll be back soon with food”, and stuck it to the trash can. He grabbed his keys and slipped out the door, closing it with a soft click.

Ten grabbed a tray and a few plates, and started piling eggs and sausages on, then filled a few cups of coffee, and, careful not to spill anything, picked his way back to his room. By the grace of some higher power, he managed to open his door without dropping anything, and he slid the tray onto his desk, letting out a breath when it was secure. 

Kunhang was stirring, and Ten waved a quiet good morning when he turned and squinted at him groggily. 

“He okay?” Kunhang whispered, nodding to Taeyong’s motionless form.

“Yeah,” Ten whispered back, stepping up beside him so they could talk with more ease. “We were gonna have a movie night but he was late… he didn’t tell me he would be, and then he showed up, like, trashed. Honestly I don’t even know if he’s gonna remember it when he wakes up. And… maybe that’s for the best.”

“Why? What’d he do?”

“He… said a lot of things. He said—he said he loved me.” Ten gave Kunhang a worried look. “And that’s—I mean that’s fine, I’m just not sure if it was the alcohol talking, or if he was actually ready to tell me that—so…”

“You should probably tell him, even if he doesn’t remember,” Kunhang suggested, rather forcefully as he sat up. “I’m gonna go down to breakfast and then probably go to the library, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks,” Ten murmured. 

Kunhang just shrugged, hopping off his bed, and Ten went back to Taeyong, tucking the covers around him and brushing some hair out of his face, and then getting a little to eat. Soon, Kunhang was waving goodbye, and then the room was still and silent.

Ten moved the trash can to the floor and sat in the chair, watching the slight rise and fall of Taeyong’s shoulders as he breathed. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but then Taeyong was shifting around, shuffling onto his back. He turned his head and caught sight of Ten.

“Why’m I here?” he asked. 

“You got really drunk last night and showed up at my door,” Ten explained, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. “You threw up a lot, and then passed out. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve mostly just got a headache,” Taeyong replied, scrunching up his eyebrows. “Not feeling nauseous though.”

“Yeah, you probably got it all up last night. Why don’t you get some food and water in, and then you can have some Advil, and then we’ll talk. Yeah?” When Taeyong nodded, Ten stood and helped him out of bed, pushing the chair back to his desk, in front of the cooling food. “I went down to the dining hall to get this for you,” he explained when Taeyong gave the tray a confused look. He grabbed one of the coffee cups and leaned back against his bed, watching as Taeyong dug in. 

“So… what happened?” Taeyong asked through a mouthful of eggs after a couple minutes of silence.

“You… you were pretty upset. I asked you what was wrong, and you said you felt like you were never gonna know me, and you didn’t think we could solve any of our problems,” Ten began. 

“Oh, fuck, and I spilled a bunch of water everywhere, right? I remember that.” Taeyong covered his face with his hands. “I’m so sorry, Ten.”

“No, that’s okay. It was just water, it’s fine. That’s not—that’s not all, though.”

Taeyong looked at him, eyes wide, and then his expression crumpled. “I said…” he breathed out. “I told you that I love you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Ten said, unable to look him in the eye. “You did. It’s—it’s okay, if you didn’t mean it—”

“I… I did mean it,” Taeyong cut him off. It sounded like he was fighting to say every word. “I _do_ love you, Ten, and that’s why this hurts so bad. I want—I want to know you, I want to see every side of you and love you anyway. I love you.”

Ten felt tears threaten behind his eyes, and in that moment he knew—Kun was right. It was such a heavy feeling in his chest because—because _of course it was_. “I—“ Ten pressed his lips together. “I love you, too,” he admitted, peeking up at him. “And I know I never make you feel like I do, and I’m sorry. I was actually planning on talking to you about it last night when you came over, I wanted—I want to make this work. It’s just hard because I don’t know _how_ , I don’t know exactly what you need from me, and I don’t know how to ask you for things without feeling guilty. I mean... I’ve been pretty terrible to you, this whole time.”

To his surprise, Taeyong laughed. “It’s like that fucking Mitski song—what is it?” he said, turning sideways in the chair so that he was facing Ten. “It goes, um, ‘I will wash your hair at night, and dry it off with care; I will see your body bare and still I will live here’, I think. I haven’t exactly made this easy, either. We’re _all_ terrible. I don’t mind _your_ terrible, because it’s you.”

“Last night, it just broke my heart,” Ten said. “I was so scared for you, and it made me realize—I thought you were dead for a second there, and I had no idea what I would’ve done if you were. But what hurt just as much was when you said you loved me, you apologized for it.”

Taeyong trained his gaze on his lap. “It just feels like I’m not allowed to.”

“I know,” Ten said, finally going to him, dropping to his knees at his feet. “I know, and that’s my fault, and I’m sorry.” He took Taeyong’s hands in his. “Taeyong. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go from here, but I want to do whatever I need to do so that you don’t feel like that again. I don’t want you to ever feel like—like getting that drunk, it’s not safe. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything, and that it’ll actually make a difference.”

“I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know how,” Taeyong said.

“I know, you just wanted reassurance, right?” Ten asked. “You were never asking me not to shut down from time to time, you just wanted me to remind you that I still—that I still _love_ you, and that I’d come back to you soon, right?”

Taeyong nodded, sighing. “But I didn’t want to ask for it, because then it wouldn’t be real.”

“It would still be real,” Ten insisted. “I mean, I get it, but it would still be real. That’s the only way this can work. And I’m just—I’m stupid, Taeyong, right, we know this. So sometimes I need you to just tell me what you need. And just because you have to tell me doesn’t make it not count, and it doesn’t make you selfish. Next time—next time, I’ll try harder to figure out what you need, and next time, you tell me if you know what will help. I’m serious about that—you have to tell me, ‘cuz I can’t read your mind. Okay?”

“Okay,” Taeyong said, giving him the tiniest of smiles.

“And one more thing,” Ten continued, brushing a quick kiss against the backs of Taeyong’s hands. “Last night, you called me ‘sir’ again, when you were apologizing. And I—it just doesn’t feel right, anymore. I don’t—I mean, even during sex, it’s like… I dunno. There’s so much more here, now. So you don’t… you don’t have to call me that, anymore. You can call me a normal pet name, since we’re, you know. A normal couple, now.”

Taeyong tilted his head. “I don’t think it’s so bad to call you, though? I mean, if you really want me to stop, I’ll stop. But… I kind of like it. I like being able to defer to you. I mean, especially after last night—I know you’ll keep me safe. I like the belonging.”

“Yeah, but…” Ten frowned, not really sure how to explain. “It’s not like I own you, or something? That feels so cold, and it makes you seem powerless, which isn’t true.”

“I don’t see it that way,” Taeyong said. “I mean, don’t you kind of own me? Look where we are. And isn’t that… okay? You own me, and in the same way, I own you. After all, there’s no true ownership without devotion—and there’s no love without devotion, either, without worship, without sacrifice. It’s like… it’s like a religion, to me. We pray to each other—I mean, that’s all godhood is—a begging to be believed.” Taeyong shifted in his seat, giving him a placid but intent look. “It’s like this. I will sit on my knees in the temple I have built for you in my heart, and you will watch over me with care. And you do the same for me. And in return, we look only to each other, and we give each other whatever it is we need. Is that not true?”

Ten stared at him, completely at a loss for words. “I mean…” he said. “I mean, yeah. It’s just—it’s so much.”

“Well, yes,” Taeyong said. “But you know. At least in my book, that’s the only way to live. Doesn’t mean it’s easy.” His expression turned unreadable. “That’s why you shied away from relationships all this time, right? Because it’s hard.”

“I guess so,” Ten said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

“You weren’t always so closed-off, though,” Taeyong added. “I remember. You were so bright and… and open, at that summer camp. It’s part of why I liked you so much. What… what changed?”

Ten shrugged. “I… I had a crush, I guess. And I spent so much time, like, chasing after him, and learning about him, only to eventually confess and have him reject me. He wasn’t, like, shitty about it. And yeah, it hurt my feelings, but what struck me more was—was how much time I wasted. I went through all that, got so distracted, and it was for nothing. So I was like… it’s not worth it.” He looked back up at Taeyong. “But… I don’t know anymore. Maybe it is worth it, in the end.”

Taeyong smiled. “That’s for you to decide,” he said. “You _can_ live like—like love doesn’t matter. And you’d be… fine, I guess. But from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you actually _want_ to live like that. You just thought you didn’t have a choice or something.”

“I don’t know why it feels like you’ve just handed me my internal organs on a silver platter,” Ten confessed, and Taeyong burst out into another round of laughter. “It’s not a completely bad feeling, it’s just strange. And embarrassing.”

Taeyong nodded sagely. “Yes, the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

“The what?”

“Seriously, you need to, like, read more poetry or something,” Taeyong said, rolling his eyes and turning back to his food. “Maybe then you’d be less repressed.”

“I’m not like you, I don’t live and die for love,” Ten defended, though he was glad Taeyong was in high spirits again. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of him somehow, knowing that they finally seemed to understand each other.

“You will,” Taeyong said simply. “If you hang around me enough.”

“Not sure if I should take that as a threat,” Ten mused. “But I don’t think I mind.”

Taeyong giggled. “Okay, can I have that Advil now?”

“Oh, shit, yeah, I’m so sorry.” Ten scrambled to his feet and went to dig through his medicines, producing a bottle of painkillers. Taeyong took it gratefully, and then stood, dusting off his hands.

“I guess we should take these back down,” Ten said, gesturing to the dirty dishes.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” Taeyong picked up their empty cups and shoved his feet into his shoes, then went to hold the door open for Ten.

“Hey,” Ten said as they were putting the dishes away, side by side. “I love you.”

Taeyong beamed at him. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! I... can't believe there's only two more chapters left before the end ! dw, though, having a wip finally finished means there's space in my head for something new ^^ there's a lot im workshopping rn (primarily hanahaki related, but there's others too). If you have any pairings or anything you wanna see feel free to drop me a comment! 
> 
> tumblr is [here!](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about)


	11. eleven (ten)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is coming a tad late! had a bit of a busy day ^^

Midterms were officially upon them. Ten spent most of his time in the studio with Sicheng, trying to figure out their project, and Taeyong was spending most of his time working, too, so they weren’t seeing a lot of each other. Ten was grateful they’d sorted things out before they’d gotten busy, because he knew it would’ve taken a toll on them if they hadn’t been in a good place, to spend so much time apart. At the same time, though, he almost felt cheated, because now that spending time together felt so good and easy, it felt wrong to see each other so infrequently.

At least things were going well in the studio. Now that he and Taeyong had smoothed things over, their friend group was much more relaxed, so he and Sicheng were working with relative ease. They chosen a remix of Billie Eilish’s “lovely”, and were finishing coming up with choreography. They’d chosen a battle between good and evil as their theme, so it hadn’t been too difficult. The only thing that really stood in their way was the artist’s statement.

“So it’s about good and evil coexisting.” Sicheng tapped his pencil against his lip, looking up from his computer. 

“So we write that,” Ten replied from where he was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, but how do we explain the parts where—I mean, we almost kiss at the end,” Sicheng points out. “I’m not saying we need to change that, I think it’s good, but I’m not really sure how to explain that.”

“So it’s a little homoerotic. But it’s no fun if you don’t make everything you do a  _ little  _ homoerotic, right?” Ten rolled his head to the side so he could look Sicheng in the eye. “Besides, it’s only there if you squint. It’s about us, the two sides, coming to an agreement to create a whole.”

“Ooh, wait, what if we said it represents a person’s inner turmoil?” Sicheng started typing again, and Ten huffed, laughing. “And how, like, each side of yourself must accept the other side in order to continue.”

“You’re so good at bullshitting,” Ten said with admiration. “I’m an expert bullshitter, so you know it’s high praise.”

“Thanks, I think.” Sicheng shut his laptop firmly. “We can edit it tomorrow. We still have a couple days before it’s due.” He slipped down from the couch onto the floor and scooted over to Ten, leaning over him. “What are we going to wear?”

“I’ll wear something loose-ish and white,” Ten said. “And you wear something form-fitting and black. Ooh!” He sat up, narrowly missing Sicheng’s head. “That grey turtleneck you have, what about that?”

Sicheng shook his bangs from his eyes, thinking. “I guess that would work. Are turtlenecks nefarious?”

“You don’t need to be nefarious.” Ten rolled his eyes. “I just think it’s dark and mysterious—and it makes your shoulders look good.”

“Don’t flatter me, Taeyong will kill both of us on the spot.” Sicheng stretched to the side, giving Ten a sharp look from under his arm. “Did you tell him what we’re doing? I don’t want him to get worried or angry.”

“He knows we’re just friends.”

“He has crippling anxiety.”

“I want to surprise him.” Ten pouted. “It’ll be okay! He loves me and I love him. We’re fine. And if he gets a little jealous, well… it’s a good job Doyoung and Jungwoo are back on good terms, right?”

“You’re literally the craziest person I know,” Sicheng said, shaking his head. “I will never understand you.”

“I’m not crazy, I just take calculated risks,” Ten defended. “Now, c’mon, it’s getting late and I want to run through the choreo one more time.”

“What’s the rush?” Sicheng gave him a surprised look when he pushed himself to his feet.

“Taeyong’s making me dinner,” Ten explained, offering a hand to Sicheng to help him up. “I don’t want to be late.”

\-- ♥♡♥ --

“Okay, how about this?” Ten held up a slightly off-white sweater, cropped a little in the front, and loose enough to show off his midriff if he raised his arms. It was thin, and comfy, and cute. “Hm?” He swished it in front of his body, looking at Taeyong.

Taeyong bit his thumbnail, slight furrow to his brows. “You know, if you would tell me anything about this performance of yours, I could be a lot more helpful,” he said.

“I have told you something. I need to be wearing white.”

“Are you a bride? Or are you doing this the Asian way and you're grieving?” Taeyong pressed.

“Neither, but I suppose my vibe is supposed to be closer to the first one?” Ten surveyed himself in the mirror. “Yeah, this will be good,” he decided, nodding, and putting it next to the cropped white pants he’d picked out.

“What about shoes?” Taeyong asked.

“We’ll be barefoot,” Ten said absently, fiddling with the hem of the sweater. 

“You’re really not gonna tell me anything? What’s the big secret?” Taeyong asked. “C’mon, just a sneak peek.”

“This  _ is  _ the sneak peek, baby,” Ten said, hanging the clothes back up. “I promise you’ll love it. I’m excited for everyone to see it. If we don’t get an A I’m just going to drop out, because clearly my talent is unappreciated. Sicheng’s too. We’ve been working really hard.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taeyong murmured, making a little  _ oof _ noise as Ten clambered up next to him on the bed, using one of his thighs as a handhold. “I know,” he repeated. “I’ve hardly seen you.”

Ten melted immediately, both hands reaching for Taeyong’s face, cradling it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve missed you, too. But your last exam was yesterday, and my performance is today, and then I’m all yours. Okay?”

Taeyong smiled, pressing closer. “Okay,” he agreed. “Can I have a kiss now, or are you just gonna keep holding my head hostage like this?”

“Watch your mouth,” Ten chided, but he leaned in anyway, unable to refuse Taeyong anything he wanted.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Ten wasn’t the nervous type. He had a lot of problems, certainly, but confidence wasn’t one of them. Still, he found himself bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet as they waited for class to begin.

“Spin me really fast, okay?” he murmured to Sicheng. “You know, the part after we’re on the floor. Don’t worry about my knee. Without the momentum, it’ll be choppy.”

“I know,” Sicheng soothed. “We’re gonna do just fine. Better than most of these people, anyway.” Ten had to laugh.

The rest of the class was slowly filing into the studio, along with various friends and a couple other professors. Their professor corralled everyone that wasn’t in the class into the corner, making them sit and threatening that if they didn’t keep quiet, he’d ban them from the studios for life.

Ten and Sicheng were going third, and as much as Ten wanted to focus on his classmates’ performances, he couldn’t process much of what was happening. He was grateful his two closest friends, Lisa and Bambam, were going after him, so he could watch them properly. 

Suddenly, it was his turn, and he only had a second to whip his head back and catch a glimpse of Taeyong’s encouraging smile before Sicheng was tugging him along in front of the class. They placed themselves, and their professor pressed play on the music, and Ten let his body take over. Before he knew it, Sicheng’s hand was gripping the nape of his neck, gentle but firm, and Ten was pressing his face into his shoulder, catching his breath.

Smattering applause broke out as they took a quick bow and then scurried back to join the cluster of students.

“That was awesome!” Bambam whispered as he passed.

“Good luck!” Ten whispered back.

He found Taeyong in the crowd in the corner, seated between Doyoung and Johnny. Ten gave him a shy smile that he returned somewhat hesitantly. Johnny gave him a double-thumbs up like the dork he was, and Doyoung just rolled his eyes and smiled. A few of the other boys were waving, but the music was starting and Ten returned his attention to the performances.

Taeyong was waiting for him with their friends when they finally filed out of the studio. Ten offered his arm to him and he took it. 

“You guys were so cool,” Kunhang exclaimed from his other side, flicking his head back and forth between him and Sicheng. “You made the choreography on your own? And the concept of  _ yin  _ and  _ yang _ —I thought you portrayed it really well!”

“Yeah,” Ten said, grinning. “We thought it would be fun if I represented the ‘good’ or ‘pure’ side, and Sicheng did the ‘evil’ one, because I’m typically much more mischievous.”

“I think mischief suits Sicheng perfectly,” Yuta piped up, snaking an arm around Sicheng’s waist. Sicheng’s ears turned bright red, and he smacked him, complaining while Yuta just laughed.

“What’d you think?” Ten said softly, turning to Taeyong as they all left the building, flooding out into the weak afternoon sun.

“It was beautiful,” Taeyong replied. “You’re a really talented dancer. Both of you are. I forgot how good you look when you’re performing.”

“…But?” Ten furrowed his brow. “You sound… I don’t know. You sound strange.”

“I just—“

“Hey, everybody!” It was Kun, who had made his way to the front of the group. He was turned to face them, half walking, half skipping backwards as he spoke. “I have just received a text from Yangyang politely informing me that he would like us to host a get-together to celebrate the end of midterms. We’ve got a little to drink, but it would be awesome if you guys could also bring whatever you have as well.”

“No problem!” Yukhei called from the back. “Thanks for hosting, Kun!”

“You know quite well this was not my idea or my decision,” Kun replied dryly, prompting laughter from the group.

“You just what?” Ten asked Taeyong when the ruckus had died down.

“Let’s talk about it later. You can come to mine after the party. Doyoung already said he wouldn’t be in.” Taeyong met his eyes, smiling. “It’s okay, really.”

“Okay,” Ten said, uneasy. “I love you,” he ventured.

“Love you, too,” Taeyong said. “Wanna get something to eat? The student center has mac ’n’ cheese today.”

“Sure,” Ten agreed.

\-- ♥♡♥ --

By the time Ten showed up to Kun’s, half their friends were already there, Taeyong included. Ten made his way to him but was intercepted by Dejun.

“Some of us missed the performance today because we were in class,” he said. “When Sicheng gets here, do you think you can perform it again?”

“We’ll need a bigger space than this,” Ten said, gesturing. “I don’t wanna break anything.”

“We can go down to the lawn. Please?” He gave him a really sad look. “I heard it was really good.”

“If Sicheng says yes, then fine,” Ten said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be dark, though, I don’t know how you expect to see anything.”

“We can bring flashlights or something.”

“That’s terrifying,” Ten said, imagining only being able to see bright spots of light. “I’m going to veto that idea. Better be soon, though, because I want to drink.”

“You’re the best,” Dejun said, hurrying off to find Sicheng.

“Hey.” Taeyong appeared next to him.

“Hey,” Ten replied, pressing a greeting kiss to his temple. “You look good,” he murmured in his ear, drawing back to let his eyes wander over Taeyong’s figure.

“Thanks, you too,” Taeyong said, but it was a bit offhand. “What was Dejun asking about?”

“He wants to see the dance, because he and few of the others missed it,” Ten explained. “I told him fine if Sicheng agrees, so we’ll all probably go down to the lawn in a bit. It’s a good thing it’s warmer out now.”

“Oh,” was all Taeyong said in response. Ten was about to press, but he heard a commotion by the door.

“Sicheng and Ten said they’d do their performance again for us!” Dejun was announcing. “But they need space, so we’re going downstairs! C’mon!”

“That’s my cue,” he said, taking Taeyong’s hand and shuffling out of the room with the rest of the group.

They made their noisy way down the stairs and out into the cool night air. It wasn’t biting, though, and they wouldn’t be out for long. Ten kissed Taeyong’s hand and then let go, weaving his way to the front to find Sicheng. 

“They’re lucky we love them,” Sicheng said when he drew near. “I dunno about you, but I’m sore.”

“Me, too,” Ten said. “We can make up for lack of form with sluttiness, though, yes?”

“Sounds fine to me.” Sicheng rolled his eyes. “Don’t know how Taeyong will like that, though. He seemed pretty jealous earlier.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Ten said, with an eye roll.  _ Jealous? Of what? _

Dejun had brought out his bluetooth speaker, and he waved it as it made the little successful-connection noise. “Okay, ready?” 

Ten and Sicheng gave each other wry smiles, and got into position. “Yeah,” Ten called back when they were ready. There was a beat of silence, and the music began to play.

It was dark, but the moon was out, so it wasn’t too hard to see. It wasn’t hard to pick Taeyong out of the crowd. He’d muscled his way to the front somehow, and he was staring at Ten, an unreadable expression on his face. Ten thought he almost looked angry. 

Ten watched him any chance he could get, whipping his head around and he jumped and spun, using Taeyong’s eyes as his anchor. Taeyong was always looking back.

The group erupted into cheers and applause when they finished, and Ten laughed as he bowed, comically overdramatic. Those who’d missed the first performance shouted their praise as they headed back inside. Ten fell into step beside Taeyong, but they didn’t speak.

When they got back to the room, Kun began passing out drinks, but Ten declined, now a little worried about Taeyong. Maybe Sicheng was right.

Taeyong had wandered back to him, cup in hand, but he didn’t look him in the eye, just leaned back against the wall and stared over Ten’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Ten asked, reaching for Taeyong’s wrist.

“Nothing,” Taeyong muttered into his cup. “You and Sicheng seem close.”

“Close? I mean… we’re friends. So?”

“So nothing.”

“Are you jealous? Is that what this is about? It was just for class.” Ten felt lost. Sure, their choreography was a little questionable—he was willing to admit it—but obviously it didn’t mean anything. He thought Taeyong knew that.

“Yeah, but you made the choreography yourselves, right?” Taeyong looked up at him through his eyelashes, and Ten could see his eyes were dark and worried. “Maybe I’m just being a jackass. It’s not like I want to stop you from getting close to other guys. But you wouldn’t tell me anything about it—why, ‘cause you were scared I wouldn’t like it? ‘Cause you know how it looks?”

“No, not at all,” Ten said, trying to placate him. “Of course not. I just wanted it to be a surprise, that’s all. I don’t want Sicheng, or anybody else. I want you. I  _ love  _ you.”

Taeyong downed whatever was in his cup and chucked it in the trash, reaching for Ten. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Ten resisted the urge to roll his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Taeyong trapped him against his lips with his hands, and Ten knew that people were staring, but he couldn’t really care, because all that mattered was that Taeyong needed him.

“I already said I’d sleep somewhere else if that’ll help!” Ten heard Doyoung shout from somewhere behind him. “Please get the fuck out of here.”

Taeyong broke the kiss, giving Ten a mischievous look before popping his head over his shoulder. “Aw, thanks Doie!” Ten found himself being dragged towards the door amid a mixture of amused whoops and disgusted groans from their friends. 

“I’ll kick your ass, Taeyong!” Doyoung called out to them as the door shut. 

Taeyong didn’t slow down, though. “Hey, careful,” Ten said, nearly tripping,

“The way you were looking at him,” Taeyong was muttering, pulling him down the hall. “I don’t want you to look at anybody except me like that.”

It was kind of endearing, how heated Taeyong was about this. Ten knew better than to make fun, of course, but he did find it sweet. “I’m sorry,” he elected to say. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Taeyong pushed him through the doorway to his room, turning the lock when the door slammed shut. “You’re going to let me ride you until I pass out,” he said, immediately attaching himself to Ten, backing him into his bed. 

Ten gasped into the kiss, not entirely prepared for how rough Taeyong was being, but not minding it very much. If Taeyong wanted to take control for one night, he would let him, happily. 

“Thought you were mad at me,” he breathed out when Taeyong finally broke away.

“I  _ am _ ,” Taeyong replied, low and dangerous. “But—I mean, fuck, Ten, do you know how fucking hot you are when you dance? Half the time I wanted to punch you in the jaw for how you were letting Sicheng touch you, but the other half? All I could think about was fucking you.” He tugged off the open button down Ten was wearing, and then yanked up on his t-shirt to untuck it from his jeans. Ten raised his arms obediently, letting Taeyong strip him. “So I thought, why not both?”

Ten would consider himself almost entirely dominant. It was very rare that he would come across someone that would make him want to submit. But right now, with Taeyong caging him in like this, one leg pressed like a threat between Ten’s thighs, he found himself shaking with desire. Still, he found it in him to be snarky. “You’re gonna punch me?” he asked.

“If you don’t shut up,” Taeyong said, so seriously Ten really almost believed him. Taeyong kissed him again, maybe to avoid confronting having to make good on his threat, working on the button of Ten’s jeans. Ten kissed back lazily, stepping out of his jeans and underwear when Taeyong pushed them down. “Okay, on the bed. I have a fun surprise.”

“What do you mean by fun?” Ten asked, but he did as he was told, hopping up onto the bed and scrunching Taeyong’s duvet to the side, sitting cross-legged by his pillows, watching with guarded interest as Taeyong rummaged through his desk drawer.

“I bought a cock ring,” Taeyong explained, holding it up. Ten could barely see in the dim light, but he could make the dull shine of the moonlight on the black silicone. “It was originally for me, but we can share.” He put it on the desk, quickly tugging off his clothes and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor before scooping up the cock ring and the lube and joining Ten on the bed.

“Oh, you  _ really _ meant until you pass out,” Ten said, understanding dawning.

“Yeah, and you don’t get to come ’til I’m happy.” There was a spark of the usual bratty Taeyong in his tone that Ten was used to, and he suppressed a laugh. Taeyong softened it with another kiss, though, crawling into Ten’s space. The faintest brush of Taeyong’s bare skin on his sent goosebumps scattering across his arms. 

Taeyong broke away, dropping the lube in Ten’s lap, and turned around. “Prep me,” he said, stretching out and resting his head on his arms, knees tucked under his hips. 

Ten smiled a little to himself. He kind of liked this side of Taeyong—demanding, aloof, and confident. He popped the lube open and worked it over his fingers, taking his time to warm it before scooting forward and getting to work. It was easy, now; he could be almost mindless with it, other hand wrapped around Taeyong’s cock to distract him from the initial stretch. He drank in Taeyong’s soft sighs, the line of his tiny waist, the soft glossiness of his hair.

Three fingers later and Taeyong was pushing him away, satisfied that he was ready. “Lie down,” he said, scooting to the side so Ten could straighten his legs, and then straddled his thighs, pushing on his shoulders to get him to lie back. He snatched the lube up, squeezing a little out onto his hand and spreading it over Ten’s dick. Ten hissed out a breath, watching through half-lidded eyes. Taeyong gave him a little eyebrow quirk, holding up the cock ring. “Ready?”

“Mm-hm,” Ten agreed, less concerned about the cock ring and more eager to get to what came after it was snug around the base of his dick.

Taeyong slid it on, then repositioned himself over Ten’s hips, and lowered himself down, hands anchored on Ten’s shoulders to help him balance. He had sucked his lower lip between his teeth, so his moan was muffled as he bottomed out.

Ten reached a hand out, resting it on Taeyong’s hip, stroking his thumb back and forth over his soft skin. “Feel good?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Taeyong replied, breathy. “Always.”

Ten smiled. “So gorgeous, baby,” he murmured, and Taeyong clenched around him, pushing himself up so Ten’s hand slipped from his hip before lowering back down again.

He only went slow for a minute, just enough to get adjusted, and then his grip on Ten’s shoulders grew painful as he sped up, nails breaking skin.

Ten probably could’ve stopped himself from thrusting up to meet him if he wanted to, but Taeyong didn’t tell him not to once he’d started, so he let his body take over, letting his hands roam wherever they could reach instead, wishing Taeyong would bend down he could kiss him, but too afraid to ask.

Taeyong was letting out happy moans above him, his breath hitching at the top and bottom of each stroke. His hands slipped from Ten’s shoulders and onto the bed beside them, and finally he was close enough to Ten that he could reach up and kiss him. Ten held his face between his hands, kissing deep and wet, pushing his tongue in past Taeyong’s teeth, kind of like he was trying to devour him. And maybe he did want to, in a way, or maybe he just wanted to taste more of him. Either way, Taeyong let him, groaning softly against his lips.

Eventually, though, he tugged away so he could speak. “Want you to touch me,” he said, breathless. “Jerk me off, make me come.”

Ten nodded, pushing against Taeyong’s chest a little so he could see where he was going, and wrapped a hand around Taeyong’s cock. It was already slick with precome; some had dripped onto Ten’s stomach at some point, and it felt sticky and gross, but Ten didn’t mind. He jacked Taeyong off, watching as his eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones, hard line of his jaw sharpening as he clenched it. 

“Gonna come already, baby?” Ten goaded, because he could. “Got yourself all worked up watching me dance?”

“Uh-huh,” Taeyong mumbled, eyes still closed. “Fuck, ‘m close, go faster,  _ faster _ —“ Ten obliged, and Taeyong didn’t slow his own pace as he came, just kept riding him as he spilled white over Ten’s knuckles.

He paused, still seated on Ten’s cock, catching his breath. Ten brought his hand to his own mouth and pressed his tongue flat to it to clean up the come, then scooped up what spilled onto his stomach with his fingers and raised them to Taeyong’s lips.

Taeyong peeked at him and then opened, closing down around his fingers and sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact. Ten shivered, unable to suppress the moan that drifted out of his throat.

“You’re so dirty, baby,” he teased when Taeyong released his fingers with a wet  _ pop!  _ “So nasty.”

“So’re you,” Taeyong rebutted with an eye roll. “’S why you like me.”

“Mm, not wrong there,” Ten conceded. “You’re so pretty when you’re messy.”

“I’m not pretty all the time?” Taeyong pouted, eyebrows angry. “What about Sicheng? D’you think  _ he’s  _ pretty?”

“You’re always pretty,” Ten quickly corrected. “And no. Only you.”

Taeyong huffed, placated but not satisfied, and chose to respond by pushing himself up and then shoving back down again. They both gasped, Taeyong likely from the overstimulation, Ten from pure surprise. But though he was shaking, Taeyong didn’t stop, just slowly picked up a rhythm again, leaning back over Ten again when his thighs got tired of holding him up.

“Ready to go again already?” Ten asked, though his voice was tighter than he would’ve liked. “Needy slut.”

“Rich coming from you,” Taeyong replied, tone somehow scathing even though it came pitchy and stuttering. “I’m not the one that danced like  _ that  _ in front of a bunch of people, twice.”

“It’s not like it was a strip tease,” Ten pointed out, and Taeyong rewarded him by shifting his weight to one arm and closing his free hand around his throat. He wheezed; Taeyong clearly wasn’t used to this and didn’t know where to put pressure, but he figured he deserved the discomfort of blocked airflow instead of the headiness of blocked blood flow, so he didn’t protest.

“It might as well have been,” Taeyong bit out. “I saw how everybody was looking at you. Kind of wanted to have you right then and there, so they’d all back off.”

Taeyong released him and Ten coughed, but managed to rasp out, “They already know, please don’t subject our friends to inappropriate PDA.”

Taeyong just rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me the thought hasn’t at least crossed your mind,” he said. “I know that when Yuta gets a little too friendly, you wanna kill him. I can see it. Or that when Mark gets cuddly, you wanna yank me away and put me over your knee, prove I’m yours. Or when Yukhei drapes himself over me in a hug, covers my body with his, you wanna fuck me ’til I’m sobbing and make him watch.”

Ten shuddered; he couldn’t deny those sorts of things had wandered into his brain, almost unbidden; thoughts born of blind jealousy and possessiveness. A dark heat unfurled in his belly, and he grit his teeth through a moan. “See?” Taeyong continued. “It’s the same for me. Sicheng’s never done anything wrong in his life, but I wanted to kick him in the stomach today. I wanted to throw you to the ground and ride you to show I could do it better than anybody else. I wanted to push you up against a wall and get on my knees to choke on your cock. It’s bad of me; it’s really ugly and spiteful but it’s true all the same. I love you and I want you and it turns me into  _ this _ , it makes me insane. But that’s okay, because I know you’re the same way. Am I right?”

“Yes, yeah, you’re right,” Ten said, jaw still set, teeth still clenched. “God,  _ fuck _ , Taeyong, if you don’t slow down, I’m gonna—“

“You’re gonna what? Come?” Taeyong spat, cold mirth in his eyes. “You won’t, though. Did you forget? Not happy yet. And that cock ring won’t let you even if you try.”

Ten made a plaintive noise in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, tone pleading as the waves of pleasure mounted. “Want me to beg? I’ll beg.”

“I’d like to see it,” Taeyong said derisively with a snort, going faster.

“Please, Taeyong, please take it off, please let me come.” The words rolled off of Ten’s tongue easily; he hated begging, but he’d already done so many things he thought he’d never do for Taeyong. What was one more? “‘M so close, and it hurts. Please, baby.”

Taeyong smiled, slowing until he was barely moving at all, lowering himself down so that they were nose to nose. And then he smiled, and said, “No.”

He slammed his hips back down again and Ten cried out, hands flying up to Taeyong’s hips, digging his fingers in so Taeyong’s movements wouldn’t shake him loose. The warmth became burning, a pulsing need that swept over his skin. He was gasping in breaths, and he felt tears prick at his eyes. “Fuck, Taeyong, baby, please, I’m gonna—gonna—“ It felt like someone had struck a match against his stomach. He convulsed upwards, thankfully missing Taeyong’s head, drawing in more air but so tense he was unable to exhale, unable to actually come, unable to do anything except remain strung up right before the tipping point, stuck.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Ten groaned as the feeling slowly subsided, leaving him feeling cheated and unsatisfied as he drifted back down into a gentler state of arousal.

“You know what it was before you let me put it on you,” Taeyong reminded from above him, and Ten cracked an eye open to glare. 

“How much more do you want from me?” Ten complained.

“Hmm.” Taeyong thought about it, slowing down again. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead and on his neck, and he raised a hand to wipe them away. “I’m tired,” he said, as if it was Ten’s fault. “If you can fuck me and make me come, then I’ll see how I feel.”

“Thought you said you wanted to ride me till you passed out.”

“Fuck off, I thought you said you wanted to come.” Taeyong lifted off of him and smacked his stomach. “Get up.”

Ten rolled his eyes, but he knew he wasn’t really in much of a position to argue, so he rolled off the bed to give Taeyong space to get comfortable, and then climbed back on, spreading Taeyong’s legs. Taeyong linked his ankles behind Ten’s back and nudged him closer, so he lined himself up and pressed in.

As much as he enjoyed letting Taeyong have his way with him, something about how they were positioned now felt much more natural, and before long he’d found the right angle, and Taeyong was whimpering into his fist, face contorted but blissful.

“There?” Ten asked, even though he knew. Taeyong nodded, more sweet moans spilling from his lips. “You’re already hard again, baby. Want me to touch you?”

“Mm-mm,” Taeyong said. “It’ll hurt, don’t. Feels so good now, just keep going.”

“Whatever you want,” Ten murmured, gripping his hip and snapping his hips back and forth, so hard the bed frame creaked beneath them. He saw a tear slip out of Taeyong’s eye as he covered his mouth with both hands to muffle his scream. It petered out into a sob, broken in time with Ten’s thrusts. Ten smiled wickedly to himself as he watched Taeyong fall apart. He loved making him cry from pain, but he loved this even more—the way he’d start crying just because it felt so perfect that he got overwhelmed. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ , Ten, please don’t stop.” Taeyong had taken his hands away in favor of balling up fistfuls of his sheets. His voice was small and high-pitched, mouth turned down, still blinking out tears. His cock was drooling precome again, making a mess of his tummy and his thighs. It was such a beautiful, lewd sight, and Ten could feel himself drawing up tight. “‘M so close,” Taeyong whined, “l-love,  _ oh _ , love your cock so much.” 

Taeyong really had the unique ability of turning into a mewling puddle of want when he was getting fucked just right, and Ten appreciated it  _ very  _ deeply. Taeyong’s eyes were starry, and he kept making these little needy noises, ass clamping down around Ten in a way that was getting increasingly difficult to ignore. He felt his own hips stutter, and he frowned, trying to focus really hard only on making Taeyong come, but the horrible, overwhelming, not-quite-enough feeling exploded over him again. Still, he grit his teeth and fucked Taeyong through it. “Come for me, baby,” he encouraged, registering somewhere in the back of his head that his voice was fucked. “I’ve got you, honey, let go.”

Taeyong keened at the nickname, shuddering, and came in short spurts all over his chest and stomach. Ten was heaving, trying to catch his breath from his second dry orgasm, still thrusting in and out shallowly as Taeyong finally wound down.

He made a little sated noise in his throat. “Always make me come so hard,” he said, smiling hazily at Ten. Ten returned the smile, albeit a bit unsteadily. “Oh, you look  _ so _ fucked out, Ten, it’s the most I’ve ever seen. We should do this more often; it’s so hot to see you like this.”

Ten made a mental note to get back at him for it later.

“You can keep fucking me ’til you come,” Taeyong offered sweetly when Ten pulled out. “I can take it. Or I can suck you off. Whatever you like.”

“I’ll fuck you,” Ten said decisively, hissing in appreciation when he’d finally worked himself free of the cock ring. “As much as I love your mouth.”

“Mmkay.” Taeyong bit his lip when Ten folded his legs up, scooting closer to him so that the head of his cock bumped against Taeyong’s hole. “Then fuck me.”

Ten didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed in, the relief of no longer having the pressure of the cock ring almost making him dizzy. He picked right up where he left off, fucking into Taeyong fast and hard and dirty. Taeyong whined and cried but didn’t tell him to stop, so he kept going, chasing the orgasm he’d been robbed of. It didn’t take long; a few more deep thrusts and the wave of pleasure that had been building in Ten’s body finally crested, and he was coming, so hard he saw white, so hard he could feel it in his fingertips and his toes.

He braced his hands on the bed on either side of Taeyong’s chest, leaning over him, panting. “God, Taeyong, maybe I should make you mad more often.”

Taeyong just giggled. “Get off me so we can clean up, dumbass.”

Ten pushed back but as he did, he caught sight of Taeyong’s cock, half-hard against his stomach, and got a very mean idea. 

He settled back on his heels innocently, carefully pulling out, watching as a little bit of his release dripped slowly from Taeyong’s entrance. He didn’t let it reach the sheets, though; he swiped it up with three fingers, and shoved it all back in Taeyong’s abused hole.

Taeyong squealed in surprise, choking out a little sob. “ _ No,  _ fuck, Ten,  _ fuck! _ ”

Ten gave him a peaceful look. “You said you wanted to pass out,” he said coolly. “I’m just trying to make that happen. How about you give me a color?”

“Green, greengreengreen,” Taeyong gasped out. “Oh  _ god,  _ hurts, sir, hurts.”

“Yeah?” Ten just pressed his fingers in deeper, swiping them over Taeyong’s swollen prostate and making him break out in fresh tears. He pumped his fingers in and out, maybe a little too harsh to be considered overly pleasant, but this was, in part, revenge. He slipped a fourth finger in alongside the other three and Taeyong wailed at the stretch.

“No, no, no,” he repeated, but he didn’t safeword out, just kept sniffling, so Ten kept fucking him. He reached his other hand up and wrapped it around Taeyong’s cock. Taeyong jerked like he’d been electrocuted, really crying now, but his cock was hard and straining again, so Ten ignored it.

He slowed down a little—Taeyong liked pain, and lots of it, but even this would be too much if he wasn’t careful, so he tried to be as gentle as he could. Taeyong was past coherence—just the way Ten liked him—letting out hurt moans and loud sobs. Still, his hips twitched up into Ten’s hand, and then rocked back insistently on his fingers, back and forth, and then he was quivering, arms and legs too, as he came, a pathetic clear liquid dribbling out of the tip of his cock, the only thing his body was able to produce.

Once Taeyong went still, Ten pulled his fingers out, reaching for a tissue to catch the mess, and then crawled up the bed to caress Taeyong’s face. “Hey, did I do it?” he asked cheekily.

“Uhh,” Taeyong responded, keeping his eyes shut. “Almost.”

“Damn. Next time.” Ten hopped off the bed, knees weaker than he expected when his feet hit the floor. “Oh, shit,” he said, laughing and catching himself on the bed frame. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m not much better off. Is your bathrobe in your closet?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong mumbled, flopping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m just gonna get something to clean us off,” he told him, tugging it off the hanger. “Unless you want a quick shower? I’ll hold you up, I did it before.”

Taeyong removed his arm, turning his head to give Ten a look. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Worst night of my life, and I don’t even remember half of it.”

“Yes or no?” Ten said, rolling his eyes and unhooking Taeyong’s towels from where they hung.

“Yes,” Taeyong said reluctantly, struggling to sit up. “Can you pass me that big t-shirt that’s hanging off the back of my chair?”

The shower was a good idea. They were both gross and sweaty, and the water felt nice. It gave them a chance to wind down, helping each other rinse their hair, sneaking in kisses whenever they could.

“I love you,” Ten said softly when they were drying off. “I love  _ you,  _ not Sicheng, not whoever else you might be worried about. Okay?”

Taeyong nodded, but his brow was creased. “Yeah, but… what if you start not loving me anymore? Will you tell me?”

“Would you want me to?” Ten asked, genuinely curious and a little confused.

“I think so,” Taeyong said. “It’s better than not knowing.”

Ten nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I don’t… I don’t really see it happening, at least not any time soon.” Taeyong gave him an unsure look. “It’s not like I have some grand expectations for us, you know? We have to take it one day at a time. I’m not saying we’ll last forever, because I don’t know. But what I do know is this. Right now, in this moment, as I am, I love you forever. And even if I change, and that doesn’t continue to be true, there’ll be a little version of me tucked away from right now who  _ does  _ love you forever. Because—because that’s how it works, right?”

Taeyong broke out into a wide smile and kissed Ten clumsily, almost making both of them slip. “Told you you’d get more like me if you hung around me enough,” he said, and Ten laughed, the sound echoing off the shitty, old tile of their dorm bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading!!! i can't believe we only have one chapter to go!!  
> [tumblr!](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com/about)


	12. twelve (taeyong)

Usually, Ten woke before Taeyong and was shuffling about in the room, maybe already with food, by the time Taeyong opened his eyes. Today, though, Ten was still sound asleep next to him. Taeyong figured it was fair—he  _ had  _ worn him out a bit the night before.

There was a happy kind of ache to his body, he realized as he stretched. He carefully pulled himself away, hopping off the end of the bed to stand, running his eyes over Ten’s sleeping form as he rolled his shoulders back. They would have to talk when he was up, but for now, Taeyong would go grab them some coffee.

It was still relatively early, so the building was quiet, and the dining hall wasn’t noisy and bustling yet. Sleepy pods of students murmured softly to each other as they picked out their breakfasts. Even the clinking and banging of the dishwashing machine seemed faint and sluggish. Taeyong picked up a tray and moved through the line, carefully balancing bowls and plates, leaving just enough room for two coffee cups, and then made the trek back up to his room.

Ten was awake now, and he rolled over when the door shut, giving Taeyong a bleary smile. “For a second I wondered if you pulled a me-from-four-months-ago, but then I remembered this is your room, so that wouldn’t make sense.”

Taeyong laughed, setting the tray down on his desk. “Why would I do something like that?”

Ten’s face grew a little serious. “Well, you were a little angry last night?” Taeyong let out a long breath. “Uh-oh.”

“No, not uh-oh,” Taeyong said. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I overreacted a little, I think. I’m not actually mad.”

“I should’ve told you,” Ten replied, sitting up and patting the spot on the bed next to him. “I should’ve realized it would worry you.”

Taeyong hopped up onto the bed, shrugging. “I mean, how could you know, really?”

“Well, I know now. And all’s well that ends well—I mean, personally I enjoyed last night a lot.” Ten smirked at him. 

“Yeah, about that. It’s not that I  _ didn’t  _ enjoy it, cuz I did, but I think we’ve developed a tendency to use sex as a bandaid for things—and granted, we end up talking about things away—“ Taeyong gestured to them. “But I don’t want us to think we  _ don’t  _ have to talk about things, or that fucking will fix it, you know?”

“Sure,” Ten said easily, nodding. “You’re right to worry about that,” he added with an open-mouthed laugh. “Especially considering the everything about me. But, yes, let’s be careful. With that, with each other.”

Taeyong smiled. “All that aside, I would  _ not  _ say no to a repeat of last night in some capacity.”

“Oh, good.” Ten said, sliding off the bed and extending a hand to help Taeyong down. “I wouldn’t mind either. Now let’s eat, before our food gets cold.” He tugged Taeyong closer and kissed him sweetly, then broke away with a laugh. “Your morning breath stinks.”

“Fuck you, yours does too!”

\-- ♥♡♥ --

Gradually, the bitter cold dissipated completely and gave way to a wet and stormy spring. On the rare days that the sky was blue, their friends would gather as many people as they could and have impromptu picnics out on the quad.

Taeyong felt like, when he looked in the mirror, he was seeing someone new. It wasn’t that he didn’t like who he’d been before, but he  _ really  _ liked who he was seeing now. Something about college, even with its insanity, and unpredictability, and overwhelming stress, had allowed him to grow into himself. He was better at asking for what he needed without feeling a gaping pit of guilt yawn huge in his stomach. He was more settled in himself, didn’t rely on others so much to feel at home in his own mind.

It was true for Ten, too, he thought. It wasn’t that they’d fixed each other, certainly; that’s not how that worked. But Ten seemed lighter, somehow. He laughed with his eyes now. He would let Taeyong know before he folded into himself.

There was about a month of the school year left, and then they’d be apart for the summer. Taeyong wasn’t worried, though. Granted, there were the general concerns about having to return to a place that housed the younger versions of themselves they’d shed and left behind—but that would happen no matter what. They’d make it past the summer—and even if they didn’t, it would be all right. They’d learned so much from each other, and they were learning more every day. It was as Ten said. No matter what happened, there would be the two of them as they were right now, frozen in time, that loved each other. And that was good enough. 

And at the risk of idealizing, it almost felt like his own little fairytale, in a way. He’d always imagined he would find a boy, beautiful like Ten, gentle like Ten, sweet like Ten, and be able to call him his own. But there had been a degree of separation between that daydream and reality. But now it  _ was _ real. Ten let him cook for him, and then cleaned up after. When he held his hand, he would absentmindedly stroke his thumb back and forth over Taeyong’s knuckles. When they were studying together, and Ten got up to get something, he’d always kiss the top of Taeyong’s head as he passed, like a habit.

“I love you like sharing a clementine,” Taeyong mentioned seriously to him one day, cuddled in his bed, and Ten started laughing.

“What do you mean?” he asked between giggles when he realized Taeyong hadn’t said it to be funny.

“You know how when you’re eating a clementine, and you’re around someone you love, and you just—without talking about it, without either person asking, you just start offering them every other slice? It’s like that—back and forth, hand to hand, you and then me. I offer you a slice of clementine because I love you, and I want you to eat well, and you accept it because you want me to know that you know that I love you.”

Ten’s eyes grew wide with understanding, and he wrapped his arms around Taeyong and squeezed him close. “That’s really sweet, actually,” he said softly. “I’m happy to share my clementines with you.” Taeyong squirmed himself just loose enough that he could press kisses into Ten’s collarbone. “Hey,” Ten continued. “I know it’s not your job, nor are you capable of healing me, or fixing me, or anything like that. But I also know that you make me better. You make me want to be better. So I want to thank you for that.”

Sudden tears threatened behind Taeyong’s eyes and he blinked rapidly to shoo them away. “You make me better, too,” he whispered.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Ten asked, humor reentering his tone.

“You, if you want.”

“Amazing. I was planning on you, too.” Ten ducked his head down so they were nose to nose and kissed him. Taeyong closed his eyes, smiling against Ten’s lips.

No, it wasn’t perfect. There were still days where Taeyong’s old anxieties flared up, still days when Ten let his old habits get the better of him, still days where Doyoung listened patiently to his tearful ramblings. But they’d gotten past every one of those days. And yes, Taeyong’s heart still felt incredibly heavy in his chest. But he didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......and just like that, it's over!! i'd been planning this project for soooo long (seriously, the note on my computer is so many words) ... of course, you can see more taeten in my superm one-shots... i'll miss THIS taeten though, quite honestly.
> 
> I am working my slow, slow way through some other stories, so have no fear, there's plenty more coming. In the meantime, please feel free to check out all my other work, especially my hanahaki series I'm doing in collaboration with my friend! And feel free to drop me a comment, or an ask on my [Tumblr](https://kjmsupremacist.tumblr.com) with anything you like! I'm happy to chat, to thirst together, to cry together, and ofc, to take requests. Anon is always on ^^
> 
> Thank you to those of u who stuck with me through this. If you liked it, please also send out a little thought to my beta readers as well. They are the bestest and I couldn't have done it without them~


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